V2 Chapter 18: When the Red Moon is still on the sky (2)
Under the dimmed light of his flickering torch, Narik hammered yet another long sword into the paving stones of the battlement. That was probably the thirtieth sword. Narik paused to rest and reminded himself once again that he should not exert his limits.
His thought returned to Prince Fearless’ final instruction.
Prince Fearless, his savior has said, “I know I am repeating myself here. And I don’t like repeating myself in this manner. But if you sleep for a single wink, my battle is already lost before I even have the chance to fight it. That’s how crucial you are to my plan right now. Everyone else can go to sleep, but you alone cannot. If you fell asleep for even a shortest of the moment, that is when I have lost my battle. You have already known too much.”
But even when Prince Fearless said, “You have already known too much.” Narik had no idea what his savior was planning or what his purpose was. Prince Fearless would try to keep his instructions simple and easy to understand most of the time. But then, other times, Narik felt like Prince Fearless has said many things only to say nothing at all. He spoke in riddles.
It was difficult to understand his intention. Even when Prince told Nark that he would play a part in being an executioner and the judge, his role was insignificant. There was no need for him to be there, standing on that battlement. Prince Fearless would kill Bloodbeard and his bandits with that poison in the same manner. He had everything under his control. With or without Narik, Bloodbeard would die with his bandits.
Narik could only presume that he was there to watch that scene for a reason alone. It was as if Prince Fearless was asking Narik, “Look at that. I’m this kind of man. Are you sure that you still want to work for me?” Every instruction, every command, every sentence that Prince Fearless has ever said felt like they were part of a test devised to test Narik’s loyalty and ability. Therefore, it was difficult for Narik to know if his savior actually meant every word that he has said.
“Do you have questions?”
Narik was expecting that question. Prince Fearless would always ask that familiar question to make sure Narik would not misunderstand his intention. So Narik asked his question.
“I’m not playing a FUCKING mind game with you. I am about to fight my own battle up there. And you have passed all of your tests up to this moment. You are my commander officer right now. There is no point for me to keep testing you, isn’t there?” Prince Fearless snapped. The odor of spirits was thick in his breath.
“So, do whatever you have to do. If you can execute my other commands, do it at your own pace. If you cannot do that, command the men to help you. You are not an errand boy. You are a commander officer of mine. You command people for me, in my absence. That’s your role. If your other missions cannot be achieved, leave them be. I consider them a luxury, not a necessity. I will figure it out somehow when I return.
Your topmost priorities are staying awake. You secondary priority are to jam every metal objects that you can salvage into the ground. Spread them wide across the keep and the battlement. As for the bailey, just pound those two long asses battleaxes to the ground. Remember, make sure these objects that you jam to the ground are higher than you are. THAT IS VERY IMPORTANT. Make sure they are higher than you are. But most importantly, stay awake until I give you permission to sleep.” And that was the final instruction that Prince Fearless gave to Narik.
The weathered battlement of the Bundor Bastion gleamed with the light reflecting from the number of the weapons and metal tools that Narik has pounded into the pavement. Lances, pikes, swords, battle axes, iron axles. Narik had no idea why he was given the mission to pound these things all over the Bundor Bastion or what purpose it served. But he diligently carried out his mission.
Narik remembered that at noon, Prince Fearless has already told everyone that a war between White Winter and Zard was inevitable, and the Bundor Bastion would become a battlefield soon.
“So here are your options. The first option, all of you can be with me. I will escort everyone to Madukat as best as I could. There, you will be much safer than here. Just informing you first, in case some of you might blame me later. There is an army besieging Madukat right now. But I will deal with them. All of them. They too, are Bloodbeard’s worms. So they will reunite with Bloodbeard soon. Don’t look so confused, what I mean is, I WILL LIFT THAT SIEGE AND GET YOU INTO MADUKAT SAFELY.
You have my words. I will keep you safe as best I could and get you inside Madukat. I swear to you in the color of this cloth that my words are true. I swear to this symbol that my words are true.
How am I going to do that? That’s my job. Not yours.
Second option, you are free to go wherever you want right now. I am not your captor or your lord. Go your way if that is what you want. Find Atuc and grab a share of rations from her and then go your way. But if you are caught by some random slavers or Bloodbeard’s surviving bandits, that’s not my problem.
I am a Prince, but I am not your Prince. This is not even my kingdom. You are not even my people. I’m not going to save you a second time. So, do me a favor, don’t fess to your captors that I am heading toward Madukat. All of you are a major burden to me right now, all of you, men and women. I don’t have to save you, but I already did. Therefore, I might as well do that till the end.
If you cannot be useful, at least have some self-respect and not become deadweight for me and everyone here.
That’s about it.
Make a decision among yourself. But remember this, if you have decided to follow me, you will be my people. You will have my protection. You will be protected.
But, you shall listen to my orders. You shall listen to my commanders’ orders. You shall respect my rules until I get you inside the walls of Madukat. After that, you are free to do whatever you want. What happens to you after that is none of my concern. But as long as you are one of my people, I will repeat myself one last time here, you shall obey my commands and my rules. If you fail to do that, I will punish you for breaking the rules.
If you cannot respect my command and my rules, AWAY from this group right now, I’m not stopping any single one of you.”
His words were blunt, spoken with no uncertainty. Prince Fearless addressed those freed captives with a carefree bluntness after he has shown them the remains of Bloodbeard and his bandits.
But when Prince Fearless spoke like that, with that kind of bluntness, Narik doubted that anyone would go with the second option. His words were blunt and carefree, speaking of his extreme confidence. He had no shadow of a doubt that he would win his battle. He had no sliver of a suspicion that he would fail to escort them to Madukat.
It was human’s nature to follow the confident one. Even when these captives were terrified of Prince Fearless, they chose to follow him. Even when they cursed him for not saving them earlier, they followed him.
Even when Prince Fearless offered them two choices, in reality, there was only one.
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Dusk deepened, two young crescents hung on the sky, one red and one blue, anointing the night Escana in a majestic violet and signaling the changing of the season. Another crescent was there on the sky as well, it should be. The black moon of Da Noira Marthias, the spirit realm of the living dead, was still invisible to the naked eyes in the early of winter. It would take another twenty days for the black moon to reveal itself on the sky alongside the red moon of Kharigan and the blue moon of Akial in their fullness.
Winter has already arrived on Escana.
Two full days have passed since the moment Ice was released from her captivity. Two full days have passed since the last time Ice saw that mysterious prince. Ice has consciously been looking for him with her eyes but she could not find him.
While most of the other captives have already but sought refuge next to the warm glow of the hearth and the comfort of their fellowship, Ice was by herself by the old well next to the keep, purifying her body with the cold water recently drawing from the well. Ice could not remember how many days have passed since the last time that she took a bath. Water was scarce and precious when she was kept inside that village. There was just enough water provided to prevent Ice and the other captives from dying to their thirst. Otherwise, there were just a few drops of dews condensed in the autumn grasses and leaves for a person to quench her inner draught.
While the women and girls have cleansed their body at dawn, together with around the well, the men would bath around noon by the bank of the lake down below in the ghost of the abandoned villages.
Ice waited until dusk settled in to purify herself, all alone by herself with weapons and armor at her side. Within the length of her arm-reach, a one-handed sword in usable condition and an undecorated oaken scepter. It did not feel right to wash herself with the companion of her followers and the other female captives. But it did not feel right to wash herself in the blackness of dusk all alone either. So, Ice brought her weapons along.
As Ice poured cold water over her body, she could still hear that constant hammering sound. That man, whose ears were large and full of open holes, was still at it whereas the other men have already rested or taken their sentry watch responsibility. That man was still diligently pounding rods, spears, swords, mostly pikes and all manner of long objects into the pavement of the bastion. But he did not just pound objects into the pavement. He also wrapped those objects with chains and torn mails. Nobody knew what that man was doing, but he was without a doubt doing his task that under the command of that mysterious prince. Ice could not understand the meaning behind the task or that prince’s intention. Ice doubted that was the defensive setup that the prince had in mind to fend off slavers and the remnants of Bloodbeard’s bandits.
“I’m Fearless, the Prince of The Alliance.”
“Not Your Highness. Call me Fearless, that is what my friends and my people call me as well. Just Fearless. No Lord, no Liege, no Prince this Prince that, just Fearless.”
Ice could never forget him, the him, the Fearless from back then, the prince that she first met while being trapped inside that village. She doubted if any of her followers could forget him, the him from back then either. That Fearless, that prince, he was far from being the strongest of men. His image could not be further away from the image of the ancient heroes whose valor was as great as their might. He was not a prince wearing shining armor who would ride his white horse swinging his silver sword to save a maiden in distress like those tales of old.
But he was kind. He was warm, as warm as the first dawn after a long lightless winter night.
“I hate my lack of the strength to fight these brutes. I hate my inability to not provide you protection at this moment. I hate myself for not having the ability to save you right here right now. However, I promise that this situation will change.”
“I will make it right. I promise. Please hold on for just a little bit longer.”
He was kind, gentle and warm, and that was enough. Ice did not think that she could ask for more. That was enough. He held her hand tightly and spoke those gentle words. To Ice, that was already enough.
But that prince, that Fearless who Ice has met from back then, he seemed to die alongside with those bandits that he has slain. There was still the Prince, there was still Fearless, but that was a husk of the person that Ice has met back then while she was being kept in captivity.
“I am a Prince. But I am not your Prince. You are not my people and this kingdom is not my kingdom. I do not owe you anything. It’s not my duty to save you.”
“So why did I save you? These bandits are being an eyesore and so are you. They are a bunch of savages. And you are a bunch of sorriness. You are weak and full of sorry. Eyesore as I have said.”
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“Every single one of you who stand on this square, you are a burden to me. You are already a burden, but please try to have some self-respect and not to become a bigger burden for me.”
He was cold. He was brutal. He was merciless. He was not the person who Ice has been thinking days and nights. Ice could not understand him. She tried to for the briefest of the moment before. But now, she has stopped trying. Only he could understand himself and his intention, and nobody else could.
Ice poured the well water over her body, desperately taking her mind off that incomprehensible man. She regretted thinking of him. She regretted waiting for him. She regretted trusting him. Ice drew yet another bucket and poured it down on herself.
No longer had Ice felt that sharp tinge of pain that overcame her when she moved. Before she was touched by that globe of light, even if Ice moved for a tiny bit, her entire body screamed like it was penetrated by a thousand pikes.
It burns. Ice has gritted her teeth all the time to prevent herself from leaking out those weak moans. So, that voice must not be hers.
It burns. Her skin was speaking in Nord. Human’s skin could not speak, but the monster’s skin probably could.
And a monster was what Ice has become since the moment she poured that boiling liquid atop of her head. Ice has become used to the look in their eyes, men, and women when they saw her heinous form. The look of pure disgust and fear from those bandits who captured her and even from her followers. Sometimes, Ice could see the look of pity showered on her by her followers. But those gazes of pity would soon turn into fear when Ice gazed right back.
She was a monster and Ice knew that. She looked like a monster and she was a monster.
“No woman could be wicked enough to pour boiling oil over her body to protect herself and survive. But a monster could. You are a monster.” That giant monster whispered to Ice when he tossed her into that village. His greasy yellow beard ruffled in the delighting sway of madness. “I expect that a wicked monster like you would do well. Do your best to survive until the end. I expect a lot from you.” He laughed as red threads condensed in his bulging eyeballs. A similar creature, just like Ice, a monster, just a different type of monster.
Ice survived but that giant monster was now dead, his head mounted on a pike planted in the center of the bailey in the constant company of a buzzing cloud of insects, days and nights.
It burns. Ice heard it clearly, the phantom hiss of her skin even now. And yet, her body was spot clean of black scabs, deformed gaping holes and yellow goo. Her skin was pristine, unmarred, untouched, without a mark, without her old callouses and scars. When that globe of light touched her, there was nothing left, no trace of that boiling liquid has ever been spewed on Ice’s body. Not even a tiny scar. Nothing.
That light, it was an unheard miracle. It was like a miracle conjured by the very Goddess of Nature herself. And yet, the person who summoned that miracle was that prince, a man. That light, it was exalted with sublime holiness. It was warm and gentle as the grace of the Goddess Niwdar herself.
And yet.
“I could have done this to all of you two days ago. I could release you from your pains two days ago. But I didn’t. Why? I don’t feel like doing so. But now I do. You people are just that much of an eyesore.”
The one who commanded such miracle spoke such cold and merciless words. It was as if he said such words asking to be hated. That was something Ice desperately wanted to believe at the time when she stood in front of that insidious red marsh of blood and bone, the remains of those bandits.
Ice became angry at herself for thinking about him again. She poured the last bucket over her and wiped her herself, then returned to her quarter with her full armor on.
When dawn arrived, Ice gathered her followers at the center of the bailey and distributed weapons to them. Yesterday, with the help of a few of her followers, Ice has spent the length of an entire day to collect weapons, mostly bows, and arrows, crossbows, and bolts in usable and good condition from the camps of the dead bandits. The rest, Ice told them making shooting targets with whatever the materials they could pick up from the camp.
While Ice and her followers watched the men, thinking that they were doing something different today. They were watching Ice and her followers as well.
Other than that young man, who has kept watch at the entrance of that watchtower for the last few days, the other men were divided into two groups. One group was still pounding more metal objects around the battlement and bailey. The other group was painting massive words onto the craggy wall of the battlement with black tar while heatedly arguing among themselves about the order of arrangement of the message.
< To Arrive>
Ice had no idea what message they were writing. They were writing those words under the order of that prince who has not shown his face for the last two days. Ice could not understand the purpose of such an order. Regardless, that was not her concerns.
Among the weapons that Ice has collected from yesterday, Ice found a bison’s horn bow that was in a good condition and kept it to herself.
After distributing the weapons to her followers, Ice then planted the shooting targets on one side of the bastion. After that, she taught them the basic and the correct method to handle their weapon respectively. That was the first time in their life that these women and girls have ever touched a bow or a crossbow. Until now, there was no need. It was a man’s responsibility to hold weapons. And these women, these girls have grown up believing that.
But just like the time when they were prisoned inside that village, Ice told them to grab a weapon to protect themselves. And they did.
Ice nocked an arrow and drew her bison horn bow, showing the women the basic shooting form. Her arrow loosed, strayed far from the target that Ice has intended to hit. The bow was in good condition, but Ice’s arms were not. Weeks of captivity have left marks on Ice’s body. Her arms rusty did not retain the same strength and dexterity as before. Again, Ice redrew her bow, aimed and let loose another arrow. It was true this time. The women cheered, optimistic.
After that, Ice showed them the way a person operated a crossbow. There were many variances of crossbows from the salvage. Among the salvage, there was even the new double shot repeating crossbow that the dwarves of Starfell Island have invented recently. But, Ice only gave the light crossbows to women, knowing that it would be a tall task for them to pull the string of those heavy and metal crossbows.
Ice made a few shots, using different crossbow each time to demonstrate the correct technique. Then, she made them practice.
Ice hated to admit it. But, it was as that prince has told her when he dragged her out to have a one on one talk with her.
“Don’t give me that look. Don’t be stupid, there is no way that I would make you and your sorry group fight any battle. I would be a complete moron if I put my trust on amateurs to fight battles. They probably cannot hit a stationary target at point blank, let alone moving targets. If I sent you and your group to the battlefields, do you know what the enemies would think? HOW CUTE! HERE COME OUR SHOOTING PRACTICE TARGETS. HOW ENTERTAINING!
As I have said before, you people are being a major burden to me. None of you are worthy to be considered a potential combatant. None of you are useful to me. The best you people can do on a battlefield would be arrow fodders.”
That prince, he looked the same. But he was not the same prince. He did not have that kindness or the warmth that brought hope to people. He was not the same prince who entered that accursed ground and held Ice’s hand.
That prince was a different man even though he looked the same and sounded the same. He was not that same person who held Ice’s hands so tight, telling her to trust him, and almost made her weep in open. The prince, who rescued Ice, every word, which he has said to Ice and the other captives, was cruel and cold with apathy. Perhaps, he was even crueler than those bandits.
“Why am I telling you to start wearing armor? Why am I telling you to teach those fragile and sorry things to shoot with bows and arrows? Are you being stupid or are you pretending to be stupid to make me angry?” He sneered and questioned Ice. Ice could never identify him with the prince that she has met three days prior.
“Silence huh? Well, I will assume that you are stupid then. I have literally just told you and those sorry things that there is a war happening right now, haven’t I? If you don’t start wearing armor now, when? There is a war between Zard and White Winter being waged right now. Every city, every town, every fortress can become a potential battlefield. If you go out of this bastion, a bunch of bandits and a bunch of slavers are waiting for you. To those opportunists, you and your sorry things are the most profitable opportunities. If you, the leader of these broken and sorry things, still have no intention of donning armor now, when? WHEN WILL YOU DECIDE TO WEAR ARMOR, HOLDING WEAPONs IN YOUR ARMS AND BE PREPARED TO PROTECT YOURSELF?”
He grabbed Ice by her damaged collar and angrily growled into her ear.
“If you, the leader of your broken and sorry band don’t distinguish yourself, if you don’t set an example for your sorry things to follow, am I supposed to do that job? Is that my job? Is that my responsibility? No, ABSOLUTELY NO. It’s a royal’s responsibility to protect his people. I am a prince but I am not your Prince, not a prince of this kingdom. ”
He then shoved Ice away. That condescending sneer returned to his lips.
“I don’t think you understood what I have told you and your group of sorry things back then, right? I will repeat myself then. I will escort you safely to the walls of Madukat. After that, you people are none of my business.
That is the length, the amount of time that you people have until you learn how to save yourself and to stand for yourself. That’s your deadline. You people are being a major burden to me, I have said that before and I will repeat it as many times as I must. You people are a major burden. Madukat is where I drop this burden off my shoulders.”
At the time, Ice had to make a conscious effort to hold her emotion back. If the prince from three days prior almost made her cry due to his overwhelming warmth and kindness, that prince almost made her cry in humiliation. She felt like crying. But she held herself back. A priestess of Niwdar only cried within the arms of her sisterhood, never to a man. Especially this kind of man, Ice inwardly reminded herself. She glared at him in defiance.
But in the eyes of that strange prince, Ice was insignificant. He continued speaking with the same sneer on his lips. “Why did I specify the bows and arrows? You and your sorry things will appear to be much more a threat with bows and arrows than swords and spears inside your hands. Besides, you know how to shoot with a bow and arrows. Am I right? If I am not mistaken, you are one of Niwdar’s followers. What kind of priestess of Niwdar who does not know how to shoot with a bow and arrows? Or are you such a massive failure?” He asked in a taunting voice.
“I know how to shoot a bow.”
“Well then, leave the preparation of food and everything else to my people. Rest well for tonight, food and warm clothes will be given to your sorry group soon. If you need anything else, ask Atuc. She is that gorgeous looking woman in that black gown. Take a rest tomorrow as well if needed. After that, start practicing archery with your sorry things. How long must you practice? As long as you must. At least until I tell you and your amateurs to stop. But try to hit your targets by that time.”
Ice just stood and gritted her teeth in silence.
“Any question?”
“How do you know that I am a follower of Niwdar?” Ice asked.
“Woman, if you keep asking me this kind of question, do me a favor and change your name to Stupid. Do you actually believe that your burn back then actually look like that? The kind that appears when a person pours boiling animal fat on top of herself? Really? Your muscles were in the open. What kind of animal fat melt through somebody’s skin and flesh? That was acid burn. Anyone who cannot realize that are either too blind or too stupid. And you, Stupid, you are the moron who is either too brave or too crazy to conjure a ball of acid and popped it on top of yourself. And what kind of people who can both conjure a ball of acid and be crazy enough to pour that acid on top of themselves? Elementary, I don’t even have to be Sherlock Holmes to answer that. Niwdar’s followers. And you, only by the virtue of being a high priestess of Niwdar that you can survive that kind of wound. Will power, will power not, you should have died from the infection. Without the perk of being Niwdar’s high priestess, you should have died. Hey, stupid. Anything else that you want to add or question?”
If there was emotion in his words, it was arrogance.
“Why did you kiss me at that time?” Quietly, Ice asked without emotion in her voice.
That prince shrugged his shoulders. He scoffed. Then before Ice could anticipate it, he took her into his arm and sealed her lips by force.
Her mouth was bitter with the taste of a foreign object. Shuddered with disgust, Ice pushed him away. When shame wrote her over, her fist flung.
He just stood there and took it, making no attempt to avoid or blocking. His nose was bleeding. But he just sniffed once, unflinching. He calmly cast the orb of light on Ice and wiped off that blood on his nose.
“That’s your answer. If I kissed you back then, I would not get punched like just now. Lucky for you, it’s just you and me right now. If you had punched the Prince of The Alliance in front of your sorry things, I would have chopped your arm off, followers of Niwdar or not. Now, start wearing that suit of armor and make yourself somewhat useful. I don’t have time to deal with you.” He scoffed and walked away.
Ice was glad that he has turned and walked away in such a manner, such speed.
When those drops of water melted from her eyes touched the ground, Ice knew that gentle person, the person who would look at her with neither the eyes of fear nor disgust nor pity, that person who held her hand so tightly and gently, that person who told her such kind words, that person was already dead, as far as Ice concerned.
That gentle person was already dead. But nobody mourned for him. Nobody cried for him. So Ice wept for him where nobody was looking at her.
Twang, Ice loosed her arrow. She walked around to correct the postures and form of a couple of her followers who were still struggling to learn. Twang, twang, twang. Her horn bow cried out. Twang, twang, twang. Twang, twang, twang. Her followers freed their arrows and bolts as well. Twang, twang, twang.
When Ice started practicing at dawn, it was just her followers and herself. Twang, twang, twang. But by the time the sun was high on the sky, Ice saw the figure of a few men standing among them with bows and arrows in their hands as well.
The bailey briefly became quiet when the prince’s women delivered food and water to Ice. Twang, twang, twang. Soon, the bailey again echoed with the sound.
Even them, those women whose belly swollen with the seeds of those savages, they turned at Ice and asked her to teach them with the bow. Some still stood from distance, watching.
Twang, twang, twang.
Ice watched those arrows and bolts set loose. None was good enough to hunt and feed themselves with that kind of archery skill. None was good enough to protect themselves. Nobody could become a marksman within a few hours or a day or a week of practice.
Twang, twang, twang. Twang, twang, twang.
They knew that they had to learn to protect themselves at some point. That cold and ruthless prince has told them that he would rescue them once, but not twice.
Ice returned to her position and practiced on her own when the number of the people practicing the bow and arrows stopped rising. Twang, twang, twang. Twang, twang, twang. With every arrow loosed, Ice scrubbed a piece of rust off her arms.
Ice kept practicing until dusk settled at the distant horizon. She stopped everyone from practicing, telling them to practice again at the next dawn. Ice then pluck the arrows from her target practice with her tired arms.
The number of words written on the wall of the battlement has risen since dawn. At dawn, there were only just two words. Ice squinted her eyes to read the words.
First To Arrive.
First To Die.
Those words were painted in black tar. They seemed like a message, a grim message to warn somebody off.