CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

It was the same room as yesterday. The room where people danced, where tables were filled with drinks and food, where smiles were abundant. Now, it is a place filled with worry and fear. It is a place where there are no smiles.

“What is the meaning of this!” Lord Obul yells as he adds to the general unpleasant feeling.

The cries and outrage of the nobles sound off in the room.

The door opens as Lord Belmon arrives with his old sword and old armor in the company of Rash-An.

“Lord Belmon, why have we been detained?” Lord Obul asks as he yells filled with outrage.

“This better be good, Lord Belmon,” Duke Embro adds, subtly warning.

“Come now, my fellows, I am sure Lord Belmon has a good reason,” Prince Takon adds as he tries to calm the situation.

“You are trying to defend him after this? Because you fancy that commoner...” Dutchess Emna adds with disdain.

“How dare you...” Prince Takon adds as he gets cut off.

“Silence!” Lord Belmon yells as his yell echoes inside the hall; there is silence. He walks with purpose and confidence as he heads to the head of the table and sits. Rash-An stands by his side.

“Well? We are listening,” the old Lord Mayro says, impatiently.

“First of all, I would like to apologize for having you all brought here under guard without explanation.” Lord Belmon says as he stands and lightly bows, “The reason for doing this is that the city of Union faces a crisis,” he adds.

“The city has been facing a crisis for decades now,” Dutchess Emna adds as she laughs; Lord Belmon glares at her. She uncomfortably averts her gaze.

“Outside these gates, outside the city, lies an army of Northmen. An army of savages who are preparing to siege these walls,” Lord Belmon loudly proclaims.

“What?” Prince Takon blurts out.

“Is this a joke?” Duke Embro asks looking around to see if someone else is in on the joke.

“If this is a joke, it is not a funny one,” Dutchess Emna adds.

“I assure you this is no joke,” Lord Belmon says as he nods to Rash-An who approaches.

“We have scouted around 50 000 infantry, 10 000 horsemen, and 5000 Fenrir riders. They are also constructing siege engines,” Rash-An says.

“They cannot possibly take the city even in its weakened state. Can they?” Duke Embro asks as asking for reassurance.

“Does it matter? We all came here with a large guard detachment to protect us against the rising number of bandits as instructed by Lord Belmon. Although not bandits we can still push past their siege. Can't we?,” Lord Obul adds.

“Yes! It is one of the few good ideas he had,” Dutchess Emna adds.

“Will you abandon the city and the honor of our kingdom to these savages?” Prince Takon adds in outrage.

“This is no time for heroic talk, this is the real world,” Duke Embro adds as another fight breaks out.

They talk over each other as they yell and hurl insults. Lord Belmon secretly smiles, hiding it.

“Silence!” Lord Belmon commands.

“I’m afraid that is not an option even should you decide it,” Lord Belmon adds.

“What do you mean?” Lord Mayro asks; Lord Belmon nods to Rash-An who approaches to speak.

“Besides the siege engines, the Northmen have constructed barricades. Should you try to force your way out you will suffer catastrophic casualties and the chance of you, personally, surviving is low. Should you break the barricade, you will be intercepted by their horsemen who are far faster than yours,” Rash-An explains.

“So? We can break through them again,” Dutchess Emna nervously says as she sweats.

“My lady, you will be held in a stale-mate against their horsemen until the fenrir riders arrive. You know about them, don’t you?” Rash-An says in both a calm and menacing manner.

“Aren’t those simply wolves? What is so special about them?” the Dutchess continue to sweat even more so than before; Rash-An approaches her.

“The Fenrir riders are agile. They specialize in mounted combat. You cannot escape them and even if you manage to deal with them, you will soon get overrun with infantry, my lady,” Rash-An says menacingly.

“He is correct! I’ve had dealings with them. Fleeing is not an option,” the old and experienced Lord Mayro adds as he sighs.

“What can we do?” Prince Takon asks as he looks for guidance.

“The only thing we can do, Prince. We defend until reinforcements arrive,” Lord Belmon adds.

“We won’t be getting reinforcements!” Lord Mayro adds.

“Why do you say that, Lord Mayro?” Duke Embro asks as he leans on his chair.

“I’ve told you! I had dealings with them. Apart from the Fenrir riders, the Northmen have mystics who are...problematic. There is no way someone managed to get through their ranks,” Lord Mayro explains.

“Aren’t those mystics a children’s fairy tale?” Lord Obul asks as he nervously laughs.

“They are not a tale. They take the prettiest boys and girls from their homes to their holy man, Boreas. He trains them in earthly pleasures and his magic,” Lord Embro says as fear covers him.

“Boreas is said to have lived for an eternity. As old as the earth! It is said he breaks his apprentice's body and soul. The horrors of his regiment turn their hair white. Those who survive are gifted with unimaginable power,” Lord Mayro explains.

“Lived for eternity? Magic? Are you jesting?” Lord Obul nervously says as he laughs and searches for a response to elevate his troubles; there is none.

“His cult has even spread in our kingdom. Their charms lured my son and...” Lord Mayro says as he stops talking as his voice quivers.

“Do not worry, Lord Mayro. I meant what I’ve said. Help will be coming. We need to hold on for a few days,” Lord Belmon says as he walks over to the pained old man and puts his hand on the old man’s shoulder.

“But how?” Lord Mayro asks.

“With the army you brought and the army we have here we will hold. We must hold!” Lord Belmon yells.

“How many soldiers do we have if we combine our forces?” Prince Takon asks.

“About 15 000 infantry and 5000 horsemen,” Rash-An adds.

“How can we hold such a larger force?” Prince Takon adds losing calm.

“We have a defensive position. We have archers and we have one trump card,” Lord Belmon says.

“A trump card?” Dutchess Emna blurts out.

“Don’t you know, my lady? This is the city of Union! This is a place where the worst of the very worst live,” Rash-An says as he smiles.

The previous night at the tavern was spent with drinks, a lot of drinks. Tyr sleeps with two bottles, one in each hand; both empty. Outside his room, someone screams. He makes a look of dissatisfaction as he tries to ignore them. Waking up earlier while having drunk too much is not good for one’s head; he knows this all too well. Tyr has experience in such matters. The loud noises intensify as they get harder and harder to ignore. Tyr opens his eyes.

Shaphas barges into the room.

“Get up!” Shaphas yells.

“For the love of all humanity what is with all this racket in the morning?” Tyr says as he notices the bottles in his hands. He takes a sip only to notice they are empty. Throwing them away he attempts to go back to sleep.

“The city of Union is under attack by Northmen!” Shaphas warns.

“Well, these things happen,” Tyr says as he waves the issue away and closes his eyes; Shaphas stands motionlessly silently looking at him. Try opens his eyes.

“What?” Tyr yells.

At the ruined building, Melione and Ulric hang with their newly found friends Harry, Little Pete, and Big Pete.

The voices in her head whisper.

“I smell it!” One says.

“You smell it?” Two asks.

“They are close,” One adds.

“They are close!” Two confirms.

“Are they the one?” Melione asks.

“No! They are close to the one,” One answers.

“They must be part of the way!” Two adds as it laughs.

“We must find them,” One says.

“No! We will let them find us. We will strike when they have been revealed. Find them when it is time,” Two commands.

“They cannot hide their stench,” One adds.

“Even if you don’t have a nose?” Two asks.

“I don’t have a nose?” One asks in a panic.

“You don’t!” Two adds.

“What happened to it? Did someone steal it?” One asks.

“No! I’ve told you this before you never head one,” Two says as it laughs.

“No nose!” One and Two say as they laugh in unison.

“We follow our nose?” Melione asks as she laughs.

“We follow no nose!” all three say as they laugh together.

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

The scene of Melione talking to herself accompanied by manic laughter is seen by the three thieves; they look at each other.

“Hawta been dat plants,” Little Pete says as he looks at Big Pete who shrugs; Big Pete was never a man of many words.

From a close distance, Ulric overhears Melione. He smiles as he readies his crossbow and sword.

“The Moon shows the way!” Ulric blurts out as he laughs.

The three thieves look at him as one would look at a madman; righty so.

“Maybe I shoulda stop with dem plants,” Harry says; Little Pete and Big Pete nod in agreement.

Throughout the streets the city guards rush in formation as they make their way towards the main gate; the city folk quickly move aside to make way. They mount Union’s high walls as thousands of armed, battle-ready men take a stand against the soon-to-come siege. Looking at the savages in the distance who are still preparing for their invasion.

Siege engines are being assembled, barricades are being constructed and human bodies are impaled on spikes. Their purpose is to sow dread.

The sight of desecrated corpses makes their will quiver and their courage falter. An old strategy of the Northmen- an effective strategy.

”Hear ye! Hear ye! Due to the crisis, there shall be an assembly at the castle. Come on and come all. This is the order of Lord Belmon. Hear ye! Hear ye!” town criers shout as they walk throughout the city issuing the command of the city lord.

“We should attend, Shaphas says as he stands with Tyr.

“How in blazes could this happen? There hasn’t been an attack for decades,” Tyr says as he watches the situation unfold before his eyes.

“It is a time of strife! The appearance of the demon, and now this. Surely, Aion has chosen us to see it through,” Shaphas says.

“Don’t start! I can’t believe this. It is one thing after another. If I didn’t know better, I would say I was purposely led here,” Tyr says as he shakes his head in contempt.

“Well...” Shaphas speaks as he gets cut off.

“Don’t!” Tyr cuts him off, thinking about this mad situation.

“Will you join me and go to this assembly?” Shaphas asks, breaking the silent standoff.

“It is not as if I have many options,” Tyr adds.

“You could try leaving the city. Though, I do not believe the Northmen would, simply, let you pass,” Shaphas says as he smiles at his statement.

“A severe understatement,” Tyr says. They make their way.

Lord Belmon enters Noname’s room as she sits with her feet on the table; she is drinking the newly discovered drink called tea as Sara stands over her with a smile while Layla is tidying up the place.

“Dis is ex-qui-site!” Noname says as the word exquisite surprises everyone and makes them pause for a moment.

“Valima, I have come here to ask you to accompany me,” Lord Belmon says as he sits at the table; he turns his attention to her feet that are still on the table as he coughs.

“Your feet, my lady,” Sara says as she leans to whisper; Noname shakes her head as she removes the feet from the table.

“Have you tried, dis? It is called da tea. It is exquisite!” Noname says as she offers Lord Belmon her cup.

“I have it is... exquisite. But there are more pressing matters now. I’m sure you have heard that the Northmen are outside the city of Union and they are preparing to invade it,” Lord Belmon says.

“Stinky Northmen!” Noname says as her right eye twitches and her finger flips.

“Um... yes. I have come to see you because I want you to accompany me as I address the citizens of the city,” Lord Belmon says.

“Whatcha wanna me? Talk to them,” Noname asks as she chugs her tea and a slight disappointment appears on her face due to it being drunk; Sara pours her some more as Noname exceedingly smiles.

“We are outnumbered and we need every bit of help we can get. I believe your presence there will greatly help boost the morale of the people. You do not have to talk, stand there and look...exquisite,” Lord Belmon says.

“Exquisite! I can do that!” Noname says as she nods in self-approval.

The townsfolk gather in their masses as the vast courtyard in front of the castle gets flooded with newly arrived faces; they stand there waiting. Some with worry and fear, others with indifference, as though the invasion of the Northmen was nothing more than a practical joke. The harsh lives of the common folk make it so. Death and hardships are all too well known. How worse can it get? Some older faces watch with caution as they are aware of the brutalities these savages can bring; being robbed, beaten, or even shived in the back is a better fate than being brutalized, put on a spike, and killed. Most of the time, not in that order.

Through the tall balcony, five figures approach; Lord Belmon clad in his armor accompanied by Rash-An, Noname, Prince Takon, and Master Abacus.

He raises his hand as commanding silence and attention. The chatter of the crowd continues. The folk of Union are not known for having discipline; that and many other virtues. The dissatisfaction toward the ruling class does not harbor them any favor.

In the crowd stands Harry, Little Pete, Big Pete, Melione, Ulric, and further away Shaphas and Tyr.

“Dat girl up there looks familiar,” Harry says.

“Ya should stop with dem plants Harry,” Little Pete says as Big Pete nods.

“Silence!” the town criers yell in rapid succession.

The crowd stops their chatter as the presence of the armed city guard adds to the weight of their words. All the weight.

“Fellow citizens of Union, we stand together at the crossroads. Outside these walls, outside our home, lies an army of 60 000 Northmen waiting to raze the city and its people,” Lord Belmon says as the crowd grows restless yet again.

“Silence! Be quiet!” the town criers yell as Lord Belmon raises his hand to command.

“We are greatly outnumbered, but there is hope,” Lord Belmon says.

“Hope? Ya barely haw 10 000 soldiers,” a man in the crowd adds.

“And dem soldiers are barely any good,” a woman in the crowd yells as few people laugh.

“My lord,” Master Abacus says as Lord Belmon cuts him off with raising his hand.

“I understand the situation looks bleak but if all able men and women from the city join our forces as a militia we can hold on until...” Lord Belmon says as he gets cut off by loud comments within the crowd.

“Dey make our lives shit any naw they wanna us to help dem?” a man says as he laughs. Noname watches the entire situation from the sides as visible boredom and annoyance cover her face. Tedious!

“Why should we care about this?” another man in the crowd yells.

“Yeah! This is ya problem,” a couple of people yell.

The crowd goes restless as they hurl insults and demand solutions for this invasion; Lord Belmon clenches his fist in anger.

“These fools will ruin everything,” Lord Belmon says, losing patience.

“Calm down, Lord Belmon, surely there is something we can do to persuade them,” Master Abacus adds.

The back-and-forth petty squabbling start to further annoy Noname as her right twitches and her finger flips people off; she keeps it hidden.

“Do what?” Lord Belmon asks as he lets his fury run to the old teacher.

“Dear people, please listen to reason,” Prince Takon says as he steps forward.

“Who, in blazes, are you?” a person in the crowd yells.

“I am Prince Takon of Kagrim...” the prince introduces himself as he gets cut off by the crowd.

“Another stinky noble!” a woman in the crowd says as she laughs.

“So much fancy going on here,” a man adds as the crowd joins in the laughter.

The laughter, the insults, and squabbling upon the balcony rise more and more like dry wood being thrown on a pyre- she snaps!

“Shaddap ya stupid twats!” Noname yells louder than she thought possible; her right eye twitches as the crowd’s voices momentarily subside.

“Who is this?” a person in the crowd asks.

“This is Princess Valima of Garniot, she is your rightful ruler,” Prince Takon adds.

“Again with nobles? So much nobles. I could just die from all the high-class prestige,” a voice in the crowd mocks.

“Why should we listen to you?” another voice in the crowd asks as a handful of citizens agree.

“Princess of mah ass!” Noname yells as the simple vulgarity momentarily shocks the onlooking gatherers; they may not be educated but one thing is for sure and that is that nobles do not swear. It is beneath them, or so they believe.

“Screw ya Princess Valima! Mah name is Noname and I’m a thief. The best thief in Union,” Noname yells as the statement itself is enough to both confuse the crowd and conjure silence.

“A thief?” a person in the crowd asks as he looks puzzled.

“Dat a joke?” another person in the crowd asks.

“Shaddup ya tools. That is Noname! I noher,” a bald man yells as he steps forward.

The bald man is accompanied by four others; it is Harry in the company of Little Pete, Big Pete, Melione, and Ulric.

“It is her!” Harry yells.

“I dun believe it,” Little Pete blurts out as he watches in disbelief; Big Pete shares his look but says nothing. Big Pete never was a man of words.

Melione points to her as Ulric nods.

“Dat is right! She is da girl dat buys mah Pertin’s!” the fruit vendor yells.

“She looks different but I recognize her!” another man yells.

“Is she a princess now? What is this joke?” a voice in the crowd asks.

“I said shaddup! Lunch of worms! Lunch of worms!” Noname blurts out as her right eye twitches.

“Dem evil spirits? It is her!” another voice says.

“We gonnabe attacked and killed. Whatcha ya need to think bout? Join the stinky nobles or we die. Haw stupid can ya be?” Noname yells in frustration.

“She right!” Little Pete yells.

“If ya dun fights for dem fight for ya self!” Harry yells.

The people in the crowd look around for a moment in silence as the voices start to scream.

“I will join ya!” a woman yells.

“Me too,” a man yells.

“Fight for da thief!” another man yells as he laughs.

Like a domino effect, they follow one by one as the crowd joins in with her.

Lord Belmon looks baffled as he laughs.

“I don’t believe this,” Lord Belmon approaches the frowning Noname as he lifts her hand; the crowd cheers.

“Long live the princess!” Lord Belmon yells.

“Long live the princess!” the crowd yells.

“Death to the queen! Death to the queen!” Noname blurts out as the cheering momentarily stops; the people in the crowd laugh as they take out their weapons, ready for battle.

They hear a heavy sound in the distance as if the wind itself screams. Suddenly it stops. Pure silence. It breaks again, loudly. Stone’s in the air come raining down upon the city. The calm before the storm ends- the invasion begins.