by R J Hanson
“We will almost assuredly encounter him,” Roland said. “And, as ashamed as I am to say it, I don’t know if I could take him.”
“There is no shame in realizing another man is better with a sword than you are,” Sir Brutis said. “The shame lies in not preparing yourself, or fleeing from your duty. Sometimes a man’s duty might require that he flee from an enemy. However, prepare yourself in skill and in mind for when you face him again. I need to sharpen my own skills. Let us begin to spare instead of our usual morning’s exercises. How about it?”
“I would be honored, sir.”
“I don’t know about honored, but you will be better prepared anyway,” Sir Brutis said. “So, what is it between you and Sir Sanderland?”
“I don’t care for his pretentious nature,” Roland said. “I don’t much care for anyone who flaunts wealth the way he does. Wealth taken from the pockets of the faithful.”
“You do have a lot of your father in you,” Sir Brutis said, smiling. “What was that about prisoners?”
“When we first met, he was bringing prisoners to Fordir to be jailed,” Roland said. “I was the closest to a Reeve’s deputy still in town, so I took charge of them for him. Within a few days they escaped. Since the escape was during my watch, I went after them. That pursuit led me here.”
“I thought those were spies from Tarborat,” Sir Brutis said.
“So did he,” Roland said.
“Ah,” was Sir Brutis’s only reply.
“There were many of us sad to see your father leave the front and return to Fordir to take the position of Reeve,” Sir Brutis said. “I understand it, but we missed his sword. I missed his friendship. We had known each other since the Silver Helm academy.”
“You were in the Silver Helm academy as well?” Sir Eldryn asked as he rode up to them.
“That I was,” Sir Brutis replied. “A long time ago. I attended there with Velryk and his brother in fact. I met Ellidik sometime later, on the front in the war with Tarborat. He was riding with the Sheld Fleet by then. They would be proud of the warriors that you have become.”
“You didn’t know my father in the academy?” Eldryn asked.
“No,” Brutis replied. “He was much younger than I. He and Velryk met when Dik joined the King’s army. Dik’s academy was a few years after ours.”
“Then you knew Kyhn as well?” Sir Eldryn asked, changing the subject. He enjoyed hearing of tales of his father and his friends. However, those stories should be shared near a hearth with a drink in hand, not on the road to a battle.
“Yes, he was a fellow student at one time.”
“Then you know that we will also likely meet him,” Eldryn said.
“Yes, I am sure of that,” Sir Brutis said. “Remember this, he is only a man. He bleeds like any other.”
“Forgive me, Sir Brutis,” Roland said, clearly not taking the cue from Eldryn to move on to a more practical conversation. “Did you say my father and his brother? I would like to hear more of my uncle, Jonas. I have never met him.”
“Yes,” Brutis replied lowering his face a bit and looking off into the distance. “It is a shame about him. We missed him on the front as well.”
Curiosity burned in Roland’s mind. He decided, however, that he didn’t want anyone else to know how ignorant he was of his own family.
“Did Lord Velryk teach you the Guard of the Hawk, or the Stance of the Bear?” Sir Brutis asked.
“Both,” the young men replied in unison.
“That’s unusual,” Sir Brutis said. “Either is hard to master, but learning both requires talent, skill, and a great deal of practice.”
“He also taught us the Moras Hold and the River Stance,” Eldryn said.
“I wouldn’t say that we mastered any of them,” Roland said. “But father always said it was good to understand yourself, but better to understand your opponent.”
“Well, then,” Sir Brutis said as he directed his horse out of line from the convoy of soldiers. “Let’s try a game. It’s a game that Engiyadu taught us. One that they ‘play’ on the Disputed Isles where he is from.”
Sir Brutis dismounted, picketed his horse, and threw his cloak over his saddle. Roland and Eldryn followed suit. Sir Brutis drew his shrou-sheld and unshouldered his shield. Roland drew his Shrou-Hayn and Eldryn drew his shrou-sheld and shield.
“We stand in a triangle,” Sir Brutis said. “We’ll begin by both of you attacking me. If I score a hit on one of you, then you switch sides and turn from attacking me to attacking your partner. If one of you scores a hit on me, then I begin attacking the one who didn’t score on me, partnering with the one who did.”
“That sounds very confusing,” Eldryn said.
“It’s meant to be,” Sir Brutis said. “You learn to not only watch your opponent, but to watch what goes on in combat around you. It will sharpen your eyes and your reflexes.”
The moment he finished speaking, Sir Brutis struck out with his sword for the inside of Roland’s thigh. Roland dropped Swift Blood in line with the thrust and drove Brutis’s blade down, but, as he did so, Sir Brutis reversed his grip on his pommel and pivoted his sword over Swift Blood. Sir Brutis, now held his sword so that the blade pointed out the bottom of his fist rather than extending between his thumb and forefinger, punched out and struck Roland squarely on the chin.
Eldryn made a quick thrust for Sir Brutis’s exposed shoulder only to find that he ducked under Eldryn’s sword. As the point of the blade passed above his shoulder, Sir Brutis rose again swiftly pushing Eldryn’s blade wide. Sir Brutis punched again while his sword still pointed downward and struck Eldryn a solid blow to the gut.
Roland and Eldryn both took a step back. Both worked mentally through the moves they had just been bested by. Sir Brutis smiled.
“Men were killing each other quite efficiently before the invention of the sword,” Sir Brutis said. It appeared to be the only explanation he would offer for the unusual move of striking them with his fist. “Again.”
They played Sir Brutis’s ‘game’ for almost an hour. Both young men learned much. Their principle lesson was simple, they both still had much to learn.
Roland awoke two days later to the smell of coffee and roasting rabbit. He rolled out of his blanket to see Kodii squatting near his rekindled campfire. He had begun to worry about Kodii because he hadn’t seen him in weeks and knew he was scouting deep into territory that Daeriv had proclaimed his own. Roland opened his mouth to offer a greeting but was cut short by Kodii.
“Eat,” Kodii said nodding toward the rabbit and coffee.
Roland nodded. He rose, stretched, put on his boots, and joined him. He noticed that Tin and Eldryn were still fast asleep nearby. It was much colder this morning than Roland had expected, but he had never been this far north before either. He wrapped his hands around the steaming coffee enjoying the warmth and the smell.
“Scout come,” Kodii said. “Two giant, ten maybe twelve ogre, twenty men.”
“When?” Roland asked, seeing that this conversation would not be of the ‘hi, how are you’ variety. It was always straight to business with Kodii. Roland liked that about him.
“Three, maybe four hours,” Kodii said, pointing to the northeast. “Giant have signal horn. Big horn. Would be loud.”
“Is he the only one with a horn?” Roland asked.
“No,” Kodii said as he slowly turned the rabbit on the spit. “One man. Small horn. No one hear.”
“Could you destroy that horn, the big horn, before the giant could signal?”
Kodii nodded, not taking his eyes from the rabbit.
Roland, ever impatient, finished his roasted rabbit and coffee quickly. Then he woke Tindrakin and Eldryn.
“Kodii has news,” Roland said. “I’m going to speak with Sir Brutis.”
El’ and Tin both sat in their bedrolls for a few moments rubbing the sleep from their eyes and working to orient themselves.
“We’ll collect ourselves,” Eldryn manag
ed to say through a yawn.
Roland nodded and, as Eldryn moved to the fire for breakfast and Tindrakin walked away from camp for his morning necessary, he headed for Sir Brutis’s fire. The encampment impressed Roland. He had no experience in the matter, but had assumed that any group the size of theirs would be easy to see on the march. However, this camp, each person here a seasoned fighter, moved through the countryside with surprising stealth. By staggering their marching patterns, camouflaging their bedrolls and tents, and carefully choosing dry wood for the fires, Prince Ralston’s command advanced covertly and with stunning speed. Furthermore, although the damp air soaked their clothing throughout the day it also prevented any dust from rising in their wake.
Roland saw that Sir Brutis was already awake and had likely been up for hours. His squire was already packing their camp and Sir Brutis was reading while having a final cup of coffee. As Roland approached Brutis looked over the top of his book, The Equestrian Gentleman, and raised his eyebrows in a question.
“Our scout says there’s a patrol up ahead,” Roland said.
“Details?” Sir Brutis asked, gesturing with his book to a stool nearby.
Roland moved to the stool and Brutis handed him an empty cup and gave a nod toward the pot of cooling coffee at the edge of the already dying fire.
“Two giants, ten to twelve ogres, and twenty men,” Roland relayed as he poured himself a cup. “One of the giants carries a large signal horn. Kodii says it would likely be heard for leagues around.”
“Were the men mounted?” Sir Brutis asked.
Roland furrowed his brow and said, “I didn’t ask.”
“You are still learning,” Sir Brutis said. “We need to know if any of them are riding and, if so, how well fed the horses are. If there are horses, we need a look at their dung. That would tell us if they have been ranging for grass or if they’re eating grain and corn. That will give us an idea of their winter stores. We need to know if they carry their camp and food with them or if they travel light. That would tell us if they’re a long-range patrol or just outer sentries for a larger camp nearby. We need to know if any of the men wore robes or appeared to be guarded by others around them. That would tell us if they’re escorting someone on a particular mission.”
Roland lowered his head a bit.
“There is only shame in ignorance if it is ignored,” Sir Brutis said. “A man who sees it for what it is, and corrects it, is on the path to wisdom.”
“Yes sir,” Roland said.
“No need to ‘sir’ me, young man,” Sir Brutis said. “Let me be Brutis to you and you Roland to me. Agreed?”
“Yes…,” then a breath, “yes.”
Roland realized he had much to learn and thought he would enjoy learning it from the likes of Sir Brutis. He had been rebuked, and it had been direct. However, there was no harsh tone in Brutis’s words. Only direction.
“I was thinking a small group, maybe twenty men who could move swiftly on foot, could move on them,” Roland said. “Kodii could get close and destroy the large horn before they even knew we were on them, eliminating their chance to call for help or give away our position.”
“That is good thinking,” Brutis said. “Twenty men seems like a small number though. What if our men are spotted before springing their surprise on them?”
“The small group flees back toward our larger force,” Roland said. “That would draw them farther from any support into the waiting trap our army prepares for them.”
“What if they send one runner back before pursuing?” Brutis said.
“Kodii follows him until he can discern where the runner is bound for,” Roland said. “Once he knows who the runner is trying to reach, he kills him before any message gets through.”
“You have read Arto,” Brutis said.
“I have,” Roland said, hoping he had redeemed himself to some degree in Brutis’s eyes. “Many times.”
“Good,” Brutis said. “I’ll relay the information to the Prince and we’ll discuss which men should be sent.”
“I know I am large,” Roland said. “I am learning to be quiet though. I can run much faster than most as well. I would be happy to be among that twenty.”
“I’ll relay that as well,” Brutis said, standing.
Roland walked back to his own small fire going over in his mind what Brutis had said. He was growing out of chastising himself, however, he had managed to look like a fool in front of a man he was coming to admire. Brutis’s questions were questions he should have asked and didn’t. Because of inexperience? Perhaps. He thought he understood his true folly though. As Kodii was telling him of what he had seen Roland was already planning an attack. Instead of gathering as much information as possible, he was already mentally running across a cold field toward a band of Daeriv’s men.
Learn to listen he heard in his mind. It was his father’s voice, but his own voice as well.
As he approached, he saw that El’ and Tin were dressed and already about the task of breaking camp. Kodii squatted on his heels several yards away looking to the north. Ungar was still snoring and wrapped in his horse blankets.
“Sir Brutis is going to inform the Prince of Kodii’s discovery,” Roland said. “I volunteered myself and Kodii for the foray, assuming the Prince approves one.”
“And Tin and I?” Eldryn asked.
“Kodii needs to go because he knows where they are and, let’s face it, he is far better in the forest than any of us could ever hope to be,” Roland said. “We will likely have to go on foot. I wasn’t sure how you two would feel about that.”
Tin lowered his head and Eldryn began to laugh. Roland’s confused look caused Eldryn to laugh that much harder.
“What?” Roland asked. “I don’t get it.”
“Of course, you don’t,” Eldryn said. “You, my good friend, are thoughtless. You drag me across the expanse of Lethanor to this distant land. You drag me out on a winter campaign into territory neither of us has ever seen nor know anything about. You even drug me out of my bedroll this morning. But now, you want my input as to whether or not I would volunteer for this ‘foray’.”
“I understand,” Tindrakin said, his head still lowered. “I’m a jumped up soldier, after all. Now I’m not even the man I was when we met.”
Tindrakin’s hand subconsciously strayed toward the socket where his eye had been. He had struggled since the injury and had, on several occasions, stumbled into things because they were on his blind side. He was working to adapt to life altering change, but that work was going slow. Eldryn, who had been immersed in his own thoughts about how ridiculous Roland could be, hadn’t noticed Tin’s glower expression until now.
“You are not the man you were when we met,” Roland said. “When we met you hadn’t defeated drow before. You hadn’t fought an ogre one on one. You hadn’t faced an assassin of the Black Fly. You hadn’t fought an army of undead. Tin, Eldryn is right. I am thoughtless. I am prideful. Those are my sins. Your virtue is humility. Humility is a fine virtue as long as it doesn’t lead to self-doubt. We need you with us, Tin. But we don’t need you doubting yourself. Remember those battles. Remember those victories. Realize the man that you are. Don’t be prideful but be honest with yourself. You have accomplished much.”
“Yes, sire,” Tin said, raising his head a bit.
“Do not take up arms timidly,” Roland said. “Remember who you are and what you have done! Remember why we are here! Remember those children in chains!”
“Yes, sire,” Tin said, pulling his shoulders back and standing a bit straighter.
“Who’s doin’ all the yellin’,” Ungar said as he rolled from his blankets.
“Roland was just telling us about a band of Daeriv’s men that have been spotted nearby,” Eldryn said.
“What are we waitin’ for then?” Ungar said. He jumped up, however sleep still muddled him a bit as he staggered to maintain his balance. “You just point me and Tindrakin the Iron Eye at ‘em!”
“The Iron Eye?” Eldryn asked.
“Yeah,” Ungar said. “Very few dwarves, and even few men mind ya’, could’ve taken that red-hot poker to the eye the way he did! Still got iron in there I reckon from when I burned out the disease! What’s wrong with Iron Eye? You don’t like it? Tindrakin the Burning Eye sounds more like somethin’ that’d happen after eatin’ stew that’s gone a bit bad.”
The last bit of imagery brought a laugh from all of them, even Kodii.
“Iron Eye it is,” Roland said. “It’ll be up to Prince Ralston who goes and who prepares with the rest of the troops in case there’s a counter attack.”
“I don’t answer to no prince,” Ungar said. “I’m with you, Tall Walker.’
“Can you stalk up on giants, ogres, and a full squad of men?” Eldryn asked.
“Stalk up?” Ungar responded as he rubbed the rest of the sleep from his eyes. “Who stalks up on a giant? They’re simple. You yell and charge. They’ll even do most of the runnin’ for ya if you know a good giant insult or two. They’ll run right up to yer hammer!”
Roland and his friends were called to Prince Ralston’s tent shortly thereafter. The morning frost was still on the grass as the sun was rising on what looked to be a gray day of winter. Inside the large tent they found Prince Ralston talking with Sir Brutis, the mage apprentice Isaak, General Maditt, a rough looking and hard traveled scout wearing a symbol of Bludu, and a few others.
All wore armor and weapons except for two. The young mage, Isaak, wore his blue apprentice’s robe which reflected none of the wear or filth from his travels. The scout, or at least Roland assumed he was a scout, wore rough worked hides and skins in layers over a thick leather vest. He wore the symbol of Bludu, an ivory carving of a set of stag horns, on a leather strap around his neck, a hand axe of good steel at his waist and a sectot bow and quiver of arrows across his back. He was of average height for a man of common blood and lean. Dark blonde hair hung over brown eyes and tangled with a wild beard that grew beyond the collar of his jerkin.
