“Now you’ve put your foot in it,” Rollo gasped with exasperation. “What in the world possessed you to do such a thing Erasmus? We’re at war with the hordes again, and you decide to go looking for trouble in the west? If we’re going to end up getting murdered by barbarians anyway, I’d much rather do so without all the extra travel.”

“Oh, dearest Rollo. You never were the romantic, were you?” Erasmus said, his back turned to his servant while he tested the heft of a battle-axe. “Think about it, a princess from a foreign land in need of brave warriors. Being murdered by barbarians just isn’t the same without some sort of quest like that.”

“At least battle with the Wargs is only very dangerous,” said Rollo. “This quest of yours is nothing short of certain death. Word is that the king has been trying to convince Erda to stay here while the rest of us go off ahead.”

That much was true. King Magnus had even requested Erasmus to try and convince Erda to stay, though the ranger-queen seemed like she wouldn’t have any of that. After his display of honour, many Thane warriors had volunteered for the quest. It was decided by the nobles however, that at most only a dozen men would be allowed to go. Fine warriors, and brave men all. But could so few turn the tide of Erda herself had declared a hopeless war? Could they even hope to make a difference? They would all be fighting strange, new enemies in a strange land. All the rules would be different. Erasmus laid down the axe on the table and searched through his collection of daggers. He guessed he should pack light. He had to pick his equipment carefully. Best not be weighed down by too much gear in the wooded highlands of the west.

“We haven’t been beaten yet,” said the paladin. “The only thing that is certain the path behind us, none can say for sure what lies ahead.”

“Whatever you say, Sir Erasmus,” Rollo said gloomily.

“But anyway, what’s this talk about the rest of us? Coming too, are you?”

The short man raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t I? I’m your squire, remember. It’s my job to follow you into battle and carry your armour and all that stuff.”

“This fight will be different, Rollo. All the heavy armour and heraldry of a knight will be more of a burden where we’re going.”

“I know that,” interjected Rollo. “Still, you will need the extra pair of hands for something other than swinging a sword. At least for the journey there.”

“I’ve thought about that already, old friend.”

“What do you mean…?”

There was a knock at the door, and in strode Myra, garbed in green tunic and riding trousers, looking every bit a hard woman of the outdoors.

“Ah, Myra,” Erasmus beckoned her in. “Are the horses picked?”

“Aye. Nothing so nice as that charger of yours, but they’ll be able to pick their way up through the forests and up mountains.”

“Excellent.”

“You… you…” Rollo choked on the words. “You can’t mean to let that wild she-bitch squire for you!”

Erasmus laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. “A wild woman for a wild land. Not to mention she knows a thing or two about healing. With how little help we are allowed, I am glad she requested to join the quest. Don’t take it personally Rollo, but… well I couldn’t bring myself to drag you into this mess.”

“I know…” Rollo said meekly. “I’m not cut out for this kind of thing. But… well you have a hard enough time staying out of trouble even with all my good advice. What if…”

“Besides,” said Erasmus, changing the subject. “I need someone who can keep an eye on all my gear while I’m gone, and keep palace affairs in check. I’m leaving all my money with you. But don’t think twice about spending it. I’m sure the king will have a great reward waiting for us upon our return.”

Rollo blinked back tears and turned away. “Just don’t die out there ‘Rasmus. Otherwise… otherwise I’ll get to say ‘I told you so’.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Just make sure it’s not the last.”

With that, Rollo turned and left the room. Myra watched him go. “I see you don’t keep him around for the encouraging words.”

Erasmus couldn’t help but chuckle. “He used to be my father’s man, but he’s been with me ever since I began soldiering. He acts as though he’s stone-cold, but that’s just for show. Worries and fusses more than a wet-nurse, he does. Squiring for me probably hasn’t been good for his nerves.”

“He should have picked a different line of work if this quest has him that rattled,” said Myra. “In the north during times of battle, mothers and wives mourn for their warriors as though they were already dead. If the warriors return, they celebrate as if they have been born again. Fretting like your little squire does no one any good.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Erasmus shrugged his shoulders. “Rollo was born for… gentler climes. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But what of yourself Myra? I had thought you were ready to begin a new life on a farm somewhere. Why throw in with this quest?”

Myra paused. She didn’t want to admit that the thought of Erasmus being around the lady Erda for so long had spurred her decision.

“Well… I suppose I felt like I still owe you for saving my life,” she said, blushing a little. “As an outlaw, I should have died several times over by now. But the Fates decided otherwise. I have a chance to make a new life, but I don’t think the Fates kept me here just to be a farm-hand. When you stood before the Moot today, it seemed like I had been given the chance to join in on something… important. If death awaits me, then I think I can be content with it.”

Erasmus looked down and smiled softly. “I would like to encourage you to stay behind and try to live a simple life. But that would be hypocritical of me.”

“Hypo- what?”

“It means that you and I are on this quest for the same reason. I too have flirted with death often enough in my life as a soldier. Killed good men. But until now, I don’t believe I have ever fought for anything worth killing for, worth dying for.”

Erasmus moved over to a chest, tucked neatly into an empty corner of the room. Kneeling before it, he opened it slowly, almost reverently. He withdrew a scabbarded sword, its hilt covered in intricate, swirling patterns. It was very much unlike the swords of either the Paladins or the Thanes.

“This blade is my family’s heirloom, a sword from the Old Kingdom, said to be forged by elves. This I have never carried into battle. I have sworn only to use it for a righteous cause. I thought that, maybe if I fought for Erda’s cause, then I could proudly bear it. And when I must face my ancestors in the halls of heaven, I can do so with my head held high, and be welcomed by the Heroes of old.”

Myra chuckled. “You should have been a poet. Have you been listening to too many sagas?” she laughed merrily. Erasmus couldn’t help but smirk.

“Oh come now, it’s not everyday that one gets to live out a tale. It would be a missed opportunity if I didn’t act out the part.”

He rose with the scabbarded blade in his hands and turned to Myra, his demeanour suddenly solemn and serious.

“I can put a brave face on it, but that doesn’t change the facts. The odds are against us. Losses and defeats are only to be expected in battle but this… this is going to be an ugly fight. I am leading you and all the others into something very grim. I feel it…”

“Where you lead,” said Myra, “I will follow.”

“To the death?”

“To the death.”

Erasmus extended his hand. “Then let’s do this together, Lady Myra. Let’s become heroes.”

That night, an air of sombre quiet fell upon the city. News from the Moot had spread. And though the people went about their business, the thoughts of the days to come weighed heavily upon all. Erasmus was out walking the streets, taking the time to look upon to the city that had been his home for the last few years. The night sky was clear, and the stars were bright. The buildings and towers were all silver, garbed in the moonlight like old friends wearing their best clothes to see the paladin off before his quest. The place had never quite felt like a home to Erasmus, but now his heart ached a little to leave it all behind.

Deciding to make a quick trip to his favourite soup kitchen, he stopped for a meal, eating slowly to savour the familiar spice. When Erasmus went to pay, the shop-owner shook his head, and thanked the paladin for his patronage.

“Me and my family will pray for your safe return, Sir Erasmus.”

“Thank you, old friend. But dark storm clouds loom above us all. You and your family will be in my thoughts and prayers. Stay safe.”

The two men embraced, and Erasmus went on his way. He noticed that, when he passed people, they looked at him in a different light, almost reverently. He turned a corner, and heard a familiar voice call out.

“Thank the gods…” Pike said with a slur. “A charming knight from the south comes to deliver us all…”

“Oh, Pike. That’s where you’ve got to. I’m glad you think me charming.”

Pike let the empty wine jug fall to the ground, not turning to look at Erasmus. “A knight come to save the princess… Such a picturesque scene.” Pike slowly turned his head and fixedly stared at the paladin with his darkly rimmed eyes. “Have you ever considered theatre acting?”

“Do you doubt my intentions friend?”

“You may have these rubes fooled,” sneered Pike. “You talk all high and mighty. But I can tell. You don’t have the resolve for this… quest.”

“Then I’m a fool for making this promise. That’s not an unpopular opinion of me. But I have sworn to do what I can. On my honour as a Paladin.”

“Don’t start on that crap. I’ve known too many Paladins. I was in the war in the south, you know. Saw glorious orders of Palladium slaughter each other over the god’s only know what. Didn’t surprise me to hear that butcher Nestor returned south once the slaughter was done, only to take the throne for himself.”

“Not very good for a Paladin’s image is it?” asked Erasmus. “So you think I’m untrustworthy? Do you expect me of some ulterior motive?”

"I expect you wouldn't be so eager to do this, if this request didn't come from the mouth of a beautiful woman."

Erasmus smiled slyly to himself. So there it was. Erda must have left an impression on the head-hunter.

"She is a very beautiful woman. I too worry that I am weak to pretty faces. But regardless, she is a fine queen, worthy of serving. I feel I owe her one too. This scar of mine would have taken much longer to heal if not for her hand."

Pike scowled darkly. "I expect you know about those… magic leaves then."

"Indeed I do.”

"I'd be dead if she hadn't done that." Pike paused for a long while, as if in deep in thought, clenching and unclenching his fists. He closed his eyes, reached down for a fresh wine jug and took a long swill. He leaned his head back and sighed. "To hell with it all. I've slaughtered all the bandits around here, I'm out of decent work…"

"What was that?" asked Erasmus.

"Basically I've nothing better to do right now, and I owe my life to Erda. It's an opportunity to clear up this debt, to tag along and keep eye on you and and the other brutes.”

"A bodyguard huh? You sure about that? I don't think you'll get along with the boys very well."

"Doesn't matter. I don't get paid to talk."

Erasmus shook his head. "Well, I suppose I can't stop you. Though I can't say for certain if Erda will accept or not."

Pike tossed the wine jug aside and rose to his feet, a bit shakily at first. He breathed in heavily, and turned his back on Erasmus to leave.

“Hold, good sir Hunter. Where are you off to now?"

"Where do you think. To the Rangers. I was just on my way to the palace to accept this job." He took a step forward, and stumbled into a wall. He blearily looked over his shoulder at Erasmus. "Which… way is the palace?"

Erasmus grinned and pointed a finger in the opposite direction.