On the outskirts of Raugus in the Halder camp, amongst the beech trees by the Suvoria River, the men were getting through their morning routine. Rotating through with one-third eating, a third cleaning and checking their own horses, weapons, and equipment, and a third guarding and doing other tasks around the camp.
While this was happening, Venna was drilling Orn to improve his skill with sword and shield. Duke Thayn watched on with interest as the sounds of swords clashing and thumping on wooden shields rang through the brisk morning air.
Sir Uhter approached and stood next to Thayn, watching the two spar. “She is quite a woman,” he said in his guttural Ohlsbachi accent. “Our women don’t do those sort of things. They are to be protected. They are the ruler of family.”
“Our beliefs are much the same, but we also believe if a woman can fight, why not let her?”
“Yes, seeing her technique allows me to see merit in Halder thinking. Her son is quite good, too.”
“Yes, I was thinking that. He still makes basic errors, but he has much potential.” Thayn then approached Venna. “May I?”
Venna eyed him cooly for a moment, glanced at Orn, and said, “All right.”
As he reached out his hand to take her shield and sword, Venna relinquished her shield but sheathed her sword. “No one may touch my blade.”
Duke Thayn inclined his head slightly as he pursed his lips. “Fair enough.” He then drew his axe from his belt, faced toward Orn, and rapped his axe on his shield a few of times.
Orn, his shield angled in front of him and his sword point toward Thayn, peered over the top edge at his mother, who nodded. He started moving closer to Thayn while he circled to his left, apprehension mixed with determination on his face.
Thayn smiled as he closed the distance and smashed forward with his shield against Orn’s. As he blocked the duke’s assault, it pushed him back several steps. Thayn chased that attack with an overhand swing, which Orn swatted away with a tight parry, just enough to deflect the axe off his line. Orn followed his parry with a straight shield edge strike, aiming for Thayn’s shoulder. Thayn saw this and twisted inwards, as the smile slid from his face. He stepped in close as he tried to uppercut Orn with the butt of his axe handle.
Orn leaned back to avoid the strike. However, he failed to notice that Thayn had stood on his leading foot. This caused Orn to overbalance and fall on his backside. Thayn stood over Orn, who blushed visibly as he looked up at him with chagrin. “That’s a dirty trick!”
Thayn laughed and replied, “You fight a good, clean fight, boy. But never dismiss an underhanded tactic. Especially when it is life or death.” He reached out his hand to help him up. However, Orn slapped it away, annoyed, and got to his own feet.
The duke’s expression flattened at the rejection of his hand. “Orn, you wrong me. I didn’t do this to humiliate. You have decent skills for your age, but skill is not enough. In real life, the enemy will try to kill you by whatever means he has, including dirty tricks. I want you to survive, so I want you to learn them and use them. Come, let us go again.”
As they faced off for a second round, a shout came from a sentry. “Riders approaching.”
Thayn said to Orn apologetically, “Perhaps another time, lad.” He gave a quick grin as he passed the shield back to Venna and went toward where the sentry called from. Orn and Venna followed.
Three horses arrived from the direction of the town. The two huscarls had their own mounts, while Shufi and Hans shared the third. Shufi dismounted and Hans passed the reins to one of the huscarls as he got off the horse.
“My lord,” said Hans as he bowed, “it would seem that at the very least, the villagers were brought here by the Nevan ship. They sold them to someone who is involved in pitting slaves against each other for entertainment. The Nevan ship has long since departed. Both Shufi and I have corroborated information from independent sources.”
“Thank you. Do we know where these people keep their slaves?”
“I believe so, Your Grace. But we should proceed with caution. We also still have our cover to consider, the ‘official’ reason that we are here. I recommend that you attend the regional governor with the Ohlsbachi knights as escorts, and Shufi will take some men to the pits to find our people and possibly arrange their release.”
“A sound plan. And you will accompany me, I take it?”
“Of course Your Grace. I will translate for you.”
“Shufi, I want you to find out if they are still here. Beyond that, do nothing else until you report your findings to me.”
“As Your Grace wishes it.”
“Sir Uhter?”
“Your Grace?”
“Ready your knights. We have a show to put on.”
Sir Uhter showed a slightly injured expression at the phrasing ‘a show put on’, however, he gave a curt nod, and headed to rally his men.
Duke Thayne then said to Venna and Orn, “You will accompany me as who you are. My shield maiden sister and bodyguard, with her son, my nephew, the warrior in training.”
“I will be going after my husband. I am not here for political games.”
“You will do as ordered,” Thayn said sternly. However, his expression softened as Venna drew herself up to retort, and he went on to say, “I understand your feelings, Venna. I truly do. But we need to sell this story of a trade mission. Rescuing your husband and friends is something we cannot do openly unless there is no other choice. Shufi is the best, and he knows this land better than any of us. I plan to use that to keep this covert.”
Venna looked down and nodded reluctantly.
Thayn added with a wry smile, “Besides, if subtlety fails, we have Ansar. He is berserk.”
Venna snorted at that, despite herself. “What about Erik?”
“He is with Uhter’s knights, so he will be with us. I think Uhter is an excellent mentor for him. The war hammer is, after all, an Ohslbachi weapon, so who better to instruct him in its use?”
She replied with a “Hmph,” as she nodded in agreement. She then turned to Orn and said, “Whose sword are you using?”
“I took it from the spare weapons. There were only three swords, the rest were axes.”
Venna held her hand out, and Orn passed her the blade. She hefted it, and then gripping the pommel, she dangled it as she wiggled it from side to side to check where along the blade it pivoted. The pivot point was three inches back from the blade tip. She lastly took a few practice swings, clicked her tongue as she shook her head, and then said, “Show me where.”
Orn took her to the spare weapon’s barrel on the supply wagon. Venna did the same tests with the other two blades. The second of the two had the pivot point almost at the blade tip, and so she handed that one to Orn, putting the other two back.
She then said, “Try it out.”
Orn took a few practice swings and thrusts, replying, “Yes, much better. I can definitely feel a difference.”
“That will be yours now. Treat it well, and it will keep you. I will show you how to pick a decent sword another time, but now we need to get ready. Here, put this on.”
She handed Orn some lamellar armour she had found amongst the supplies. Orn shook his head and said, “I’ve already got chain mail and helmet from Grand Duke Viggin’s armoury.”
“Sure it’s not too heavy? This armour allows you to move quicker in a fight. Wear the chain to practise, but in a fight, your best friend is speed and agility. Trust me, son.”
“All right, Mother. Sheesh.”
She smiled and slapped the back of his head with her fingers in admonishment, “But wear the helmet. We’ve got to protect that delicate brain of yours…”
Even though Orn had his back to her at this stage, she added “…and don’t roll your eyes.” Orn flinched and shook his head. His mother’s apparent omnipotence, where he and his brother were concerned, still astounded him.
Soon, the party that was heading to the local governor had assembled and was ready to file out of the camp. They organised the column in two files, with the duke, Hans, Venna, and her two sons near the centre.
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They moved towards the town, where Hans showed the ambassador’s letter to the gate guard and asked where the person responsible for the administration of this town was located. The guard gave them directions, and Hans handed him a silver coin for the toll but waved away the change that the guard offered.
The party moved on through town. The formation of Ohlsbachi knights in full plate armour with their lances upright was quite the martial display. A sight that had seen for the first time in this part of the empire, so it drew a crowd of onlookers that lined the streets as they rode by.
As they approached a large open plaza called a forum, they could see a massive white building fronted with huge, ornate pillars at the top of wide steps on the opposite side. The building was larger than anything Orn had seen before.
As the column crossed the forum, Uhter called out an order in Ohlsbachi, and the knights reformed into two rows of four, one in front and one behind the duke’s group. As they moved forward at a slow trot, the regional governor came out onto the steps of the giant building to investigate what the commotion was about.
The knights neared the steps before the governor, Uhter, gave a different order, to which all the horses halted. The knights’ horses in front and the rear, each with their forelegs, knelt down and lowered their heads, as their riders lowered their lances and raised their visors in a formal Ohlsbachi knight salute.
Duke Thayn muttered over his shoulder to Hans, “Your brethren sure know pomp. If that doesn’t leave a lasting good impression, I don’t know what will.” Hans merely chuckled in response.
The knights and their horses returned to a normal stance, and the front four peeled away in pairs and reassembled at the rear of the group.
There was silence for a few moments before the richly dressed man in his fifties at the top of the stair, who appeared to be in charge of the town, applauded and called down to them in Nevan, “What a masterful display. I am Praetor Darius Decimus. May I ask, What brings your strange assembly to Raugus?”
Hans responded, “May I approach, honourable praetor?”
“Approach.”
Hans dismounted, and consulted with Duke Thayn, who merely said, “Arrange a meeting between myself and him to discuss matters of trade between our nations.” He nodded and proceeded up the stairs to stand before the praetor.
He stopped when there were two more steps between them and bowed. He then stood up and said, “I am here with Duke Thayn Uldenson of Skord on behalf of the Halder nations. They wish to establish formal trade relations with the Nevan Empire, and are looking to decide where best to establish a permanent trade mission.”
“Ah, well. I was not expecting this, but as you have come a long way, I cannot simply dismiss you. Please convey my apologies to your duke for any inconvenience, but if you allow some time, I will arrange a more suitable setting for this discussion. Please, ask your duke and some of his retainers to approach and follow this gentleman into the basilica. Unfortunately, his armoured escort will not be permitted to accompany him, but I will send someone to attend to them in the meantime.”
“Very well, your honour. I will convey your message.” Hans went back down to confer with Duke Thayn. Darius turned to one of his retinues and whispered something to him. That man headed to the main entrance at almost a run.
He then turned to another and said, “Show them to the parlour. The rest of you, I need you to organise a meeting room with divans, wine, and fruits for our distinguished guests. It is short notice, but we must represent the Nevan Empire well. Come now! Hurry, hurry!”
And with that, Nevans in white tunics began scurrying in different directions. As that was occurring, Thayn, Hans, and the Avdlaks made their way up the stairs.
Once they reached the top, a small fussy man who walked with an almost feminine grace waved them over. Their footsteps echoed off of the marble flooring of the basilica, as he led them into a room off to the side of the main entry.
Orn and Erik were looking everywhere, their amazement written on their faces, at the marvel of engineering that this building represented.
The rhythmic sound of feet marching at the double interrupted their thoughts, before thirty legionnaires burst through the doorway of the large parlour and surrounded them with a wall of shields and spears two men deep.
Darius’ voice emerged from the doorway. He spoke in Halder, which had only a slight accent. “Tell me the truth, Duke Thayn Uldenson. Why are you really here, hm? Enough with this trade delegation nonsense.”
The duke, Venna, and her sons had their hands on their weapons while realising that attempting to resist was futility. Thayn answered, “I do want trade, but truthfully, we came for our people.”
“I see. And what people would those be?”
“With respect, this is not a discussion for all ears to behold, if you can take my meaning.”
“Ah. Very well.” Darius tilted his chin up to the senior legionnaire and gave a negligent wave of his hand, a signal that he wanted them to allow the five Haldermen out of the circle. He then inclined his head, beckoning for Thayn to follow. Thayn proceeded after Darius, and the other four, while keeping a cautious hand on their hilts, followed.
“You speak my language quite well. When did you learn it?”
“There was a time when I hoped to be appointed ambassador to Udstadland. But, I was promoted to Praetor in Paqurineva first. So it was not to be.”
They walked out into the main entry chamber and moved towards the back end of the large, high-ceilinged hall. Looking up at the imperial banners covering sections of the walls at regular intervals, Orn marvelled at how someone could have reached the ceiling to hang them from it. Orn looked around the cavernous hall, distracted by what he was seeing. He walked straight into the back of Erik, who turned and pushed him back. “Watch where you’re going, dippy!”
Venna chimed in with, “Yes, pay attention, Orn. And Erik, don’t be mean to your brother.”
Darius, hearing this exchange, cast a glance over his shoulder. His arched eyebrow and the slightest of smiles broke his pompous demeanour, as he overheard that universal constant- a parent parenting. He led them through a large doorway to a corridor, turning left into a room that had six divans arranged in a hexagon around a large, low round table. As he walked over to the furthest one, he gestured they should sit before doing so himself. Lounging easily onto his side, the servant girls moved around, filling the cups with wine, and presenting them to each person. They each picked up a fruit platter, positioning themselves within reach, but out of the way of conversation.
Orn and Erik couldn’t decide whether to lie down like the praetor or sit like their mother. The two closest girls smiled at their struggle. Then, as though of one mind, gently pressed them into a lying position. They sat beside them and started hand-feeding them morsels of fruit from their platters. The two boys’ faces turned red. This reaction caused the servant girl’s smiles to broaden as they flirted by leaning in closer. Venna, noticing this, said nothing and made no move to intervene, although the look she flashed toward the two boys clearly communicated she would discuss it at length with them later.
Orn looked into the emerald eyes of the black-haired servant girl as she gently pressed a piece of yellow fruit to his lips. As he opened his mouth tentatively, he thought it odd, as the Nevans he had seen so far had tawny through to dark brown, almost black-coloured eyes. He also felt a vague sense of familiarity, as though he had seen her somewhere before.
Darius spoke up, “Nothing said in here will leave this room unless it needs to.” Thayn looked meaningfully at the servants, to which Darius merely frowned and waved his hand dismissively. “Pay them no mind. You may speak freely here.”
Thayn shrugged and began relaying to the praetor everything that led them to arrive in Raugus. The praetor’s response was an explosive sigh, as he had been holding his breath. Darius finally said, “I wondered about the last match I saw in the pits. I watched a slave that matched the description of the lady here’s husband. A man the likes of which I have never seen. None could stand against him. Had I known that Flavius had made purchases that breached our treaty with Halder, I would have arrested him then and there.”
Venna tensed at this and started getting up as she said, “Let us go, we can bring him home…”
However, Darius held out his hand and said, “Please, dear lady. Patience.”
The praetor paused a moment to gather his thoughts before saying, “We had a, hm…shaky beginning, our two countries. But I feel that we can stand on equal terms and have good relations going forward. This situation, well if you will beg pardon, frankly stinks. Someone, it would seem, is provoking us into war. And I fear that this is something that runs deep.”
“My father thinks the same. Hence, we came under the guise of a trade mission, instead of…well, a different way,” Thayn responded.
“A diplomatic way of putting it. Lady, ah Venna, was it?” Venna nodded, and he went on, “This is Nevan territory, so I cannot have you attacking or otherwise interfering with a legal enterprise…”
Venna bristled at this, stood up, and made to protest, but Darius cut her off as he more firmly said, “Please, allow me to finish!” Venna closed her mouth and slowly sat back down on the divan.
Darius continued, “So, I will send a detachment of the town garrison. I think one centur should be sufficient. Of course, you may accompany them so you can identify your fellows and liberate them. If they are indeed there, then the establishment and all people will be arrested, and all slaves will be held as witnesses for their trial.”
Thayn stood and bowed slightly to the praetor and said, “You have our gratitude. When do we begin?”
Darius waved his serving girl to come closer and whispered in her ear. This sent her hurriedly out of the room. Moments later, a legionnaire in gold embossed armour, with a helm that had a black plume of horse hair sprouting from the crest under his left arm, marched into the room.
He stopped and towards the praetor put his right fist forward with arm extended, then brought his fist to his chest as his head dipped forward in salute. “Commander Pavlo Vera reporting as ordered, Honourable Praetor.”
“Ah, Commander. We are going to be moving on the pits. If they are holding men of Halder origin, then you are to shut it down and arrest anyone who is not a slave. Then have your men attend to the welfare of any slaves there, as they will be witnesses at trial. The Haldermen shall be freed and given into the care of these people. These people will accompany you and they may defend themselves as they need to, but are not to actively participate in the operation. Is that clear?”
Commander Pavlo Vera saluted, made an about-face, and marched from the room. Darius turned to Thayn, who was listening to Hans translating for him. Once Hans had finished, Darius spoke to the group, saying, “The commander will ready his men. I will have your knights sent to you in the forum and then you will join with the commander and head to the pits with him and his men.” To Venna, he said, “I pray that you are reunited with your husband and your countrymen.”
They all stood up as the meeting drew to a close. Darius said to Thayn before he departed, “Please, do return. I am very interested in establishing trade. Raugus is by no means the capital, but as a port, it makes for an excellent trade hub, as it is positioned near the centre of the Nevan coast.”
“I am hoping to once we have resolved this…”
“Yes, yes, of course. Luck to you, Your Grace.”
“And my gratitude to you, Honourable Praetor.”
With that, Darius left them. As Orn and Erik stood to leave, the serving girls who were feeding them pouted in disappointment until they met Venna’s disapproving glare. This caused them to avert their eyes as they blushed and set about busying themselves by clearing away the remains of the refreshments.
Outside the government building, the knights were waiting with the party’s horses, as a hundred Nevan soldiers formed up before the commander, who sat upon his horse. He barked out several orders that were relayed by each of the ten sergeants to their respective decar.
He then breathed deep into his diaphragm and unleashed his parade ground voice. “Centur, aduva VACCHIUM!”
The hundred men turned about as one and then, at intervals, each of the ten deci marched out of the forum into a column, each decar arranged three by three with their sergeants to each unit’s centre left, marching in step. The unified sound of marching feet and the display of discipline impressed the Knights and Halderman alike.
Thayn thought to himself ‘Strengths and weaknesses. We may be a power on the waves, but I see why they are a power on land.’