Kaewyn sat huddled alone around one of the many dozens of cooking fires now burning around the camp. It was getting dark now, but the cold had come early before the sun had completely given way to night. The horizon had become a deep orange and purple in the past few minutes. The sight of such a beautiful sunset made him appreciate being outside rather than hiding away in his tent as he had done for the last week. He hugged himself and leant in closer to the warm fire, hoping for once that he’d have some company soon.

As the sunset slowly disappeared and darkness crept in to replace it, Kaewyn was pleased to be joined by General Alaric. He spoke briefly about the day he’d had, mostly about the difficulties that had come up in regards to the soldier’s dwindling morale, but they were soon interrupted when the cooks hauled up the juiciest chunk of pork Kaewyn had ever seen. When he asked how they procured such fine meat with supplies running so low, General Alaric explained that the last of their livestock had been freshly slaughtered at his order. With their supplies running so low, the General explained that a large feast was vital to improving morale. Kaewyn watched on eagerly as the cooks prepared the meat by rubbing salt and seasonings into each of the cuts they had taken off of the large pieces before setting them up to roast over the fire.

Soon after, Kaewyn and the General were joined by Arlan and Sir Darius. The pair had been inseparable since the encounter in the village. He suspected that Arlan may view the old knight as something of a role model. He wasn’t so sure about Sir Darius himself just yet, but he had to admit that the older man seemed to be trustworthy. When Yohren and Marcus hopefully joined them soon, he planned to question the knight and learn more about him. For now, however, he simply enjoyed the sight and scent of the pork as it began to sizzle on the wooden frame that the cooks had built above the fire. The scent of roasting meat was tantalising. Since the Battle of Taneby Kaewyn’s appetite had all but disappeared, but now after a long day of physical and mental exertion riding with the vanguard, he found that his hunger had returned in full force.

Kaewyn’s mouth watered as he watched the cook test the readiness of the pork by cutting into it. The juices of the meat dripped down into the fire with a satisfying sizzle, catching the attention of the others. General Alaric let out a cheer and demanded the first serving be his, but Arlan countered and said that the honour should belong to the lord. Kaewyn smiled and consoled the General who laughed it off, but then insisted that the second serving was his no matter who argued against him.

The cook then cut off a thick slice of pork and delivered it to him on a clay plate. Kaewyn used a steel two-pronged fork with a handle of wood to skewer the meat and then bit into the pork which was still burning hot, but he didn’t care even a little. The meat was juicy and the seasoning perfectly added to the flavour. Usually, he would leave the fat for the dog kennels, but even the fat was deliciously crisp and salty. Before General Alaric got his own serving, Kaewyn had already wolfed his down and asked for another. In a few minutes, everyone had their own serving. The only thing that was missing was something to drink. General Alaric must have thought the same thing as the moment he finished his first serving of pork, he stood up and left, returning a moment later carrying a barrel of wine all by himself. Arlan rushed to help the General and once the barrel was placed on the ground, he suggested Alaric sit down and then graciously offered to fill everyone’s cups himself. With a cup of wine in one hand and a plate of his third serving of pork in the other, Kaewyn was content. But something was missing. Where is Yohren? And Marcus for that matter?

“Has anyone seen Marcus?” Kaewyn asked between gulps of wine.

“In his tent. I already told him about the feast but he wasn’t interested.” General Alaric said as he tore into another piece of pork. “He has been going on and on about some book he wants to write all damn day. Wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“A book? What kind of book?” He asked, suddenly curious.

General Alaric shrugged his shoulders as he continued to chew.

“Our learned scholar is writing a book, is he?” Arlan added. “Well, he still has to eat sometime.”

“Apparently not.” General Alaric chuckled. “His loss. Besides, that means more for us!”

“What about Yohren?” Kaewyn said.

“Yohren? Is he that retainer of yours?” Sir Darius asked. “The one with the…”

“Nose like a horse?” He laughed. “Yes, that’s him.”

“He hasn’t left the company of the villagers you found me with.” The old knight said as he scratched at his greying stubble. “Apparently the young lad recognised someone from his past, or so they tell me.”

The group settled into a comfortable silence as each of them drank and ate. The camp though, became louder as soldiers started to sing and laugh. At first it was a comfortable backdrop. Too many nights in recent memory the camp had been silent and sombre due to their constant harassment and lack of supplies. The sound of laughter and song reminded him of better times, when the army and he himself, were confident of their future. He was happy to hear the men so cheery, but a worrying thought crossed his mind. With all of their troops drinking freely and with little sign of their enemy, he suddenly felt vulnerable. What if the barbarians do to us what we did to Severus? To attack while the majority of our men and drunk and defenceless? A reversed Battle of the Rau with them as the victims.

A chill shot through him that caused his body to shiver involuntarily and he found himself looking out into the darkness for any sign of a hidden force waiting to attack. When nothing suggested his fears were true, he allowed himself to relax somewhat. He knew that General Alaric had stationed sentries to alert them at the first sign of an attack and that he and Marcus had implanted a system of overlapping patrols that scoured the areas all around camp during the night. It was nearly impossible for a large force to sneak up on them without some warning, a thought that comforted him, though not nearly as much as he would have liked. He finished off what pork remained on his plate and downed the rest of his wine, when Arlan decided to reignite a conversation

“My lord, Sir Darius has been telling me how he came to be in our corner of the Empire. I suspect it is a tale that would be of interest to you as well?”

Arlan relayed Sir Darius’ tale with enthusiasm and excitement as if it were his own. The old knight listened on and nodded his head to confirm each detail that Arlan spoke on, much like one of Kaewyn’s tutors would when he had to recite history to his father to show what he had learnt. General Alaric seemed less interested in the old knight’s story and more interested in the pork, but as Arlan continued, Kaewyn noticed that he too had begun to listen in with curiosity in his eyes.

Sir Darius had been in his mid-thirties when the Grandmaster of his Order had decided that they would leave the heartlands on a quest to vanquish a great evil. The order was relatively small, some fifty knights with as many squires in all. The Grandmaster had decided that the order was growing complacent and weak. With no enemy to fight or quest to occupy them, he believed that they had allowed the relatively peaceful times to dull their skills and abilities. Thus, he announced that the order needed a challenge to overcome.

Sir Darius had been a newly anointed knight when the order set out in full force from the heartlands. Their first destination was Edheren Province and after tasting the famed hostile hospitality of the Elentide family, the order continued on to Greystone Province. It was here that they learned of the barbarian raids south of Vinum that had occurred so long ago that only the old and infirm could remember being told from their long dead relatives had even happened. Needing no further evidence of evil doers, the grandmaster ordered the knights to prepare to march south.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

After a brief stop at Varde Castle and with even less evidence of barbarian raids to go on, the order left Empire lands and rode into the sandy, waterless deserts of the south. It was here that Arlan deferred his recounting of the tale to the man himself who continued the story, albeit with less excitement and flair than Arlan.

Sir Darius explained that after a week of searching the featureless desert sands, the order found an oasis. Shade, water and some much needed rest served to reinvigorate the knights and their squires. A discussion then took place with the senior knights and the grandmaster on whether they should return to the empire or continue their search, but no decision was made. The next day, Sir Darius explained that a lone tribal traveller stumbled across their camp. The knights chased him down on their horses and captured the man, but the prisoner refused to cooperate. The grandmaster tortured the barbarian until the prisoner relented, a broken and defeated shell. Even though they could not understand his language, the barbarian knew what they wanted. Knowing now that the prisoner would lead the knights to where the barbarians lived, all discussion of turning back halted.

With the prisoner leading the way, the order found village after village hidden in the sands. Sir Darius spoke softly and lowered his head as he recounted the slaughter he and his brothers committed upon the defenceless inhabitants, leaving only burnt-out huts and charred bodies in their wake. When their prisoner, emotionally and physically broken collapsed in the sand and died, the grandmaster declared victory and decided that they would return home to regale the empire with tales of their great deeds.

After a few days of riding north, a few of the knights were convinced that they were being followed. This paranoia spread through the order until the grandmaster could take no more. If there was something or someone stalking them, then it was their duty as brave knights to turn and face it head on, and so they did. Sir Darius explained that he was placed in the rear to watch for any sign of an enemy attempting to surround them with a few of the other newly anointed knights, while the grandmaster took the rest of the order and turned around to confront the unknown threat. The order crested a sandy dune and disappeared. Ten minutes later, less than a dozen knights returned, bloody and beaten. They screamed to flee as they came within earshot but it was too late. Men with tattoos and painted spots rode horses smaller than any in the empire appeared on the horizon in every direction. The heavier empire horses could not outrun these smaller cousins of theirs and soon, these barbarian warriors had them completely surrounded. They closed in and attacked with a viciousness Sir Darius had never known, killing without mercy. The old knight wiped at his eyes as he recounted the fall of his own squire, who died when a spear was put through his back. He explained that he had tried to fight on alongside his brothers to the end, to die alongside the others as honour demanded, but the last thing he remembered was trying to dodge a club.

“How did you survive?” Kaewyn asked.

“I woke up a prisoner of the men whose families I had helped slaughter.” The old knight said quietly. “I expected torture, or worse, but instead they treated my wounds and gave me what sustenance I needed to survive. They had every reason to kill me but they didn’t, though I fear the order’s actions caused them to retaliate by raiding the southernmost villagers of Oscua and Vinum Provinces. So much death caused by the hubris of one man. It is a sad tale; one I have come to deeply regret my part in.”

Yohren needs to hear this. The attacks on his village were brutal, certainly, but if Sir Darius is speaking the truth, then it would seem the barbarians had a reason for their raids.

“Do you know why they chose to keep you alive?” Arlan asked.

“Not at first. For days I was dragged behind their horses through the hot sands. No one spoke to me, but every morning and night I was given something to eat and drink. When we arrived at a village, not dissimilar from the ones we had destroyed, I was placed in a cage. Their leader tried to communicate with me. We couldn’t understand one another of course, but eventually I learned the basics of their language.”

“So, you can speak the savage language then.” General Alaric added.

“Now, yes. But then I could only convey and understand the simplest words. The first thing I asked was why I was still alive. Their leader told me he wanted to know everything he could about the Empire. It’s people, language, customs, practices, anything he could get out of me.”

“Is that why they invade now?” The General said. “Because you told them everything about us?”

The old knight shook his head. “No, the leader from all those years ago was only ever interested in protecting his people, and he has long since passed from this world. His son leads the Ralerai now.”

“The Ralerai?” Kaewyn asked.

“That is the name of the people who captured me.”

“So, we have a name for our enemy at last.” General Alaric said.

Sir Darius looked at the General with apprehension. “Yes and no general, the Ralerai are a part of this invasion certainly, but they are not the driving force behind it.”

“Then who is?” Kaewyn asked.

“Distant kin of theirs, a people more brutal and also more advanced than the Ralerai. They live even further south along a great river upon which their civilisation is based. You’ve no doubt seen that their skill with steel and ironworking is no less than our own. It is simply different.”

“I noticed with some of the prisoners we took had segregated themselves from each other.” Kaewyn added. “One group had tattoos, the other clad in leather and steels no less advanced than our own. Do the Ralerai and these others, do they not get along with one another?”

Sir Darius hesitated and Kaewyn saw him bite his lip. “They do not. One is… subservient to the other.”

“You know an awful lot about these barbarians and their ways knight.” General Alaric said suspiciously.

“I was their prisoner for over twenty years General.” Sir Darius said defensively. “As much as I would have liked to have been back home, I was not. I lived with the Ralerai, learned their language. I ate with them, spoke with them and yes, I even made friends with some of them. I do not deny it. I suspect I would have gone mad had I not shown an interest in their ways.”

“I do not doubt it Sir Darius, but there is one thing I do not understand.” Kaewyn said. “How did you manage to escape?”

“I… never tried to escape before now.” The old knight said calmly, though Kaewyn could tell that the old knight had grown uncomfortable. “In truth, I never saw the point in escaping. My order was destroyed. As simple as my life had become, I was content with the Ralerai.”

Content as a prisoner?

“It was when I learned that these distant kin from the south were coming north, to find fresh lands to raid, plunder and conquer, that I knew I had to escape and warn somebody. As I hadn’t attempted to escape in twenty years, I suppose no one suspected I might just… get up and leave.” Sir Darius explained, again with some hesitation. “I cannot help but feel responsible for the conflict between our people and theirs, and if I can save the lives of those caught in the way, then I will do just that and hope that it makes up for the atrocities of my youth.”

“Since returning to empire lands you have already saved people from two different villages.” Arlan said warmly. “Please do not judge yourself too harshly.”

“My thanks Arlan.” Sir Darius said as he stood and stretched his arms. “Now if you’ll excuse me my lord, speaking on these old memories has exhausted my mind and body. I thank you for the food and drink, as well as your company. I think I will retire for the night.”

Kaewyn nodded and watched as Sir Darius bowed and bid farewell to the group. The knight made his way over to a tent that had been set up for him and went inside. With Sir Darius gone, his thoughts dwelled on the old knight’s journey. His story was a fascinating one. He had heard his fair share of stories and adventures from travellers who frequented the taverns and inns of Oakerton, his hometown. He wasn’t so naïve that he believed every storyteller or every part of a particular tale, but he enjoyed them for what they were. Sir Darius’ tale however, was completely different. He could tell just by how the old knight’s voice changed, how his body language would shift when he reached a new part of the tale, that he was speaking from a place of feeling. He did not believe Sir Darius was lying outright, but he did suspect that the old knight was omitting key details or withholding something important. He trusted that the man he was not going to turn on them or otherwise betray them in some way, but there was definitely something he did not want them to know.

Sir Darius spoke of learning the Ralerai’s ways, even making friends with them. Is it possible that he did not escape, but was let go?