Birds sang and the sun made dappled shadows on the ground as Rhania trudged between the trees, boiling with rage. She had spent a day meditating and recovering before the statue of Ergon before making her way east to Hadlan’s Pillars, only to find that they had collapsed into heaps of rubble. She knew it boded ill but lacked the strength or resolve to investigate further and decided to turn back and report the matter to her superiors.
However, before she could do that, there was one more matter to see to. The two extra swords she was carrying across her back helped to harden her resolve. The sword the orc carried seemed too valuable to leave with Ricar’s body after his treachery, so she brought it with her in the hope that its owner would be happy with its return.
The other sword, however, concerned her more. She had sensed nothing untoward from it, however, she couldn’t help but feel a nagging feeling that her growing rage at her betrayal and the untrustworthiness of human beings in general might be instigated by it.
The nagging feeling disappeared however once the field in which the village stood came into view. Numerous camps had been erected on the outskirts of the village, looking like plump white mushrooms that had sprung up after a spring shower. The poppy field itself had been reduced to a muddy quagmire by numerous boots that had trampled across it over the past few days. Her rage began to boil over and she unslung her bow her fired an arrow.
Moments later, a body fell from a tree, landing on the ground with a thud. Rhania pointed her arrow at the other scout who was hidden up a tree and looked him in the eye.
“Go on, sound the alarm,” she ordered.
A loud whistle echoed through the trees. In the field, soldiers began to pour out of their tents and into the field. She loosed the second arrow and the second scout fell out of the tree. She turned her attention to the field and saw Ilian’s banner.
“Good,” she muttered to herself. “That will save time.”
She strode onto the field and countered roughly a hundred men mostly armed with crude spears, probably conscripted from Yeryn’s peasantry. Soon, thirty of Ilian’s bannermen, clad in steel breastplates and armed with swords herded twenty bedraggled people out from the village. They were the village’s inhabitants. The last one out of the village was Sir Ilian himself, looking out of place in his richly threaded loungewear.
“It seems you have completed your assignment,” he called out mockingly. “What became of Ricar?”
“I killed him,” she replied simply.
“So, I suppose there is no further need for theatrics,” Ilian called out as a crooked grin split his face. “Throw down your weapons and surrender or I start executing villagers.”
“What happened to Idriene and Partik?” Rhania demanded as she drew her sword and began walking slowly towards Ilian and his men.
“Who?” Ilian asked.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” she snarled as she gave each villager an accusing look in turn. “What happened to them?”
“Th… they killed them,” one of the villagers stammered. “The lord’s men did. To make an example of them.”
“The graves they were buried in on the edge of the wood are at least five days old!” she snarled. “You killed them for helping us.”
“Stop where you are or we’ll start executing villagers,” Ilian warned.
“It will save me the effort,” she spat as she continued her slow advance towards the village.
“Kill one,” Ilian ordered.
One of his men kicked a trembling villager to his knees and beheaded him without hesitation. Ilian turned back to Rhania and smirked. “I’m not bluffing. Their lives mean nothing to me. You on the other hand swore holy oaths.”
The closest ranks of conscripted soldiers backed away nervously when the slender half elf dragging the heavy sword behind her did not slow down.
“Stand your ground, you maggots!” one of Ilian’s soldiers roared.
“Kill another two!” Ilian ordered.
“Hold!” he barked when Rhania slowed her pace. “See? Your needless posturing has cost an unnecessary life.”
“You seem to be misunderstanding something,” Rhania growled. “All of you have been sentenced to death and none of you are leaving this field alive. I’m not going to get in your way if you are going to help me do my job for me.”
“Kill them,” Ilian roared.
“Save us!” the villagers screamed, and Rhania’s stomach turned as she watched two more villagers scream as they were kicked to the ground before being mercilessly killed. She shook her head. Why should she have second thoughts if they could butcher their own kind without remorse?
“What are you waiting for, fools?” Ilian demanded. “Kill her!”
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Five armoured soldiers broke ranks and charged Rhania causing her misgivings about her course of action to vanish. When one drew near enough, she savagely unleashed her sword, cutting in half from the top of his head to his pelvis. The remaining four backed off fearfully. Intoxicated by the sight of blood, Rhania lunged forward and knocked the head off another. The remaining three lost their nerve and ran back to the safety of the others.
“Attack you cowards!” Ilian roared at the conscripts.
Rhania took a step towards them, and they took a step back. She shot them a warning look before turning her attention back to Ilian and his bannermen.
“All of you are useless!” Ilian roared. He strode forward with measured steps and saluted Rhania by holding his sword upright in front of him. “I am Ilian, first son of House Vergun. Come girl, I will deal with my men after I am finished with you.”
“Ilian Vergun, for your crime of hiding an unholy artefact from the Church, I sentence you to death,” Rhania growled. “Your men and those villagers are just as guilty.”
The huge man’s cheeks coloured turned crimson and he roared as he unleashed a powerful two handed blow. Rhania nimbly sidestepped the savage strike and in a single, quick motion, sliced his hands off. As Ilian’s sword fell to the ground, the lord of Yeryn stared at the stumps in disbelief until Rhania knocked his head off his shoulders.
She then turned her attention to the remnants of his men and wondered which she should deal with first. The conscripts, or the bannermen. Several in both camps turned to flee and she was about to pursue them when the air was shattered by the blast of a familiar, high pitched note. It was the horn of the Ildurin, that had been entrusted to Vendar Fallorin, her Captain. That meant he was here.
The fleeing men came to a halt as soldiers appeared from the trees around the clearing to their rear. They carried the banner of House Beldor of Dinburn, depicting a white hawk in flight over a field of green. At their head was a horse of pure white bearing a rider clad in dazzling gold. Upon seeing him, it was as though a dam holding that had been holding her emotions in check over the past few days burst and overwhelmed her as she Rhania sank to her knees and burst into tears.
It was deep into the night as Rhania stood to attention inside a spacious tent that had been pitched amongst the trees. Her captain was seated on the other side of the table. His ageless face was furrowed with concern as he cast a wary eye on the sword in front of him. At length, he tore his piercing blue eyes from the sword and levelled his gaze on Rhania.
Vendar Fallorin stared at her in silence, and she couldn’t help but feel distressed at how different they looked. His short, cropped hair was as white as fresh snow, and his skin seemed to glow with a heavenly aura that always left her feeling grimy by comparison.
“Is that everything?” he asked at length. His voice had a melodic lilt to it that left her longing to hear more whenever he finished speaking.
She bit her lip and nodded. She had spent the afternoon and most of the night telling and retelling what had happened since her arrival in Yeryn, leaving out no detail, save for her dream. Her emotions were in turmoil now, and that was going to be a difficult conversation that she felt unprepared to have at this time.
Vendar sighed and Rhania braced herself for telling off that she was sure was to come. Upon reflection, she had done plenty wrong on her first assignment. She had let her emotions get the best of her, been stubborn in her ways to the point where it had almost caused her death, failed to see through Ricar’s perfidy despite all the signs, and worst of all, almost massacred an entire village in a fit of rage.
“You’ve done well,” Vendar said at length, to her great surprise. “Very well.”
“But the villagers,” Rhania protested. “I would have killed them had you not shown up when you did.”
“I don’t think it would be unfair to lay at least part of the blame for that on the sword,” Vendar remarked. “I can sense its malice and corruption even without touching it and you carried it for four days. We’ll have to have a cleric look at you when we get back to Dinburn.”
Rhania began to groan but stopped herself when she remembered the great favour Aertani had bestowed upon her.
“Alright,” she sighed and Vendar’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. She decided to quickly change the subject before her captain decided to press her on it. “What will become of the sword?”
Her Captain frowned. “I’ll have to think about it. It is far too dangerous to simply hand over.”
“I agree,” she said quickly. “And what of Glonn?”
“We will have to leave him to the forest,” Vendar sighed.
“But he’s dangerous,” Rhania protested. “And…”
She fell silent when her Captain held up his hand. “I don’t disagree. However, it has been four days since your duel and he could be anywhere, if he is even still alive. We are simply spread too thin to search for him.”
Rhania nodded slowly. “And what is to become of me?”
Vendar levelled his gaze on her and shook his head. “I’m afraid I have coddled you over the past few years.”
Rhania’s heart sank as her Captain continued. “Perhaps it was because there are so few of us in the human world that I treated you as one of our own instead of as what you were, a child of two worlds. The truth is, I realized it, to an extent, but couldn’t bring myself to see it.”
Vendar took a deep breath, and Rhania sighed as she braced herself for what was to come. After all the mistakes she had made, she knew that she could have no objections.
“Over the course of this assignment, you have proven yourself far more capable than many fully fledged Arbiters,” Vendar said, and Rhania’s jaw dropped in astonishment. “And you have done it alone no less.”
The Captain paused to shake his head. “I should have let you spread your wings sooner, especially during our time of great need.”
“So I can continue going on assignments?” Rhania blurted, unable to contain herself any longer.
Vendar nodded slowly. “Yes, but only after we have a cleric examine you and conduct a post-mortem on this assignment in greater detail when we return to Dinburn. You were not without faults of course, and they will have to be corrected before I send you out again.”
“Thank you, Captain!” Rhania was unable to contain her joy and was beaming from ear to ear.
Vendar broke into a smile of his own. “Well done, Rhania Winstead. The Arbiters look forward to your future exploits. Now, go get some rest. We leave at dawn.”
Rhania blinked. “So soon?”
Vendar’s smile turned rueful. “I’m afraid I came here as soon as I received word from Sir Ilian and borrowed some of House Beldor’s men without permission. If I don’t return them forthwith, I fear there might be a bit of an incident.”
“But what about Sir Ilian’s men, and the villagers?” Rhania gasped. “They will flee as soon as we leave.”
“We’ll have to let the Church deal with them,” Vendar replied. “A team of Inquisitors are already on their way.”
A chill ran down Rhania’s spine at the mention of the feared prosecutors of heresy. Vendar glanced at the sword before continuing. “The important thing is that this sword is in our possession.”
He turned his piercing gaze back to Rhania and waved her away. “Go on then, I’m sure your ordeal has left you exhausted, and we still have plenty of travelling to look forward to tomorrow.”