The Knight of Honor (The Arising Evil, Book 1)

by Ulysses Troy

  Edmond looked in the direction Merlon pointed to and screamed instantly. “The old man, he is gone!”

  Conrad was the only one to be able to keep his calm. “Yes, because he never existed in the first place.” He tried to explain. “When I mentioned I saw something like that back at Choand, I tried to say it was not the man that was enchanted, it was the place he stood at.” He browsed their surroundings, and then focused on the oak. “The old man was only a delusion, a delusion created by a kind of soul or . . .”

  “You don’t know what it is?” Merlon cried.

  “Of course. I only know about magic a bit because of a couple of experiences during my travels.” Said Conrad truthfully. “I don’t know much about . . . magic either. I am no Rakh’orun.”

  Edmond looked around him, to feel safe. “So, is it possible this man was a warning made by a soul?” He asked with a worried expression on his face.

  “Maybe,” Conrad said. “We can’t be sure about its intent. But it was somehow connected with the forest, and more with the castle.”

  “Sers, this is madness!” Merlon cried again, raising both of his arms. His face was still as red as the apples of the South Shore. “We need to turn back to the plains as soon as possible!”

  “You may return,” Conrad said. “I won’t until I find my friend.”

  “And I have made a promise, Merlon,” The Baron said proudly. “This is the last time I’m telling you: don’t grumble about turning back ever again. If you want to return to the plains, do it on your own. Otherwise, I’ll have to punish you.” He looked at the horizon. “My lady mother has always said that I am treating you far too kindly, I guess she was right,”

  “But . . .”

  “I said what I said, servant. Now, we need to continue our journey.”

  ***

  Hours passed as they rode on their uncertain path, a path the beginning or end of which they did not even know. A path of leaves and soil, and full of mystery, standing under a veil of darkness.

  “You see! There is no way we can find that ‘castle’, even if it exists!” Merlon said with a voice that sounded reckless and tired at the same time. To be honest, he was not wrong about wanting to return and give up on this short journey, as their hopes of finding Unac’h Dorn were continuously decreasing. They had spent hours searching for the hideout of the Brotherhood under the green leaves of the thick woods, only to find nothing.

  The Jade Forest was not like any other forest Conrad had seen. From the outside, it looked pretty normal, not exceptional, yet when one roamed through its trees, he started to experience an alien, unsettling feeling. Every part of the forest somehow looked the same, although Conrad could not tell how. Maybe it was a special part of the forest, or they were just terrible trackers. We should have brought a guide from the village with us to lead the path.

  Yet, after some time, something to break this unbearable uncertainty occurred. I hear . . . a voice. Conrad thought stopping his horse. “Wait.” He wavered for a moment and tried to focus all his attention on the sound coming from the woods nearby. A sound that had to belong to nothing but a horse.

  “Listen,” he said while looking at the faces of his companions. “Do you hear the sound too?”

  “What are you talking about? There is no sound apart from warbles here.” Merlon said with an exaggerated tone. “Oh no, we are finally starting to lose our minds after riding in this wicked place for hours!”

  “Hush!” The Baron raised his fist to silence him and tried to hear the sound Conrad was talking about. “Yes.” He said. “There is a weak sound, coming from the right. It sounds like a horse whinnying.”

  “I doubt if anyone apart from outlaws would bring a horse here,” Conrad said.

  “Can’t it be just a wild horse?” Merlon asked, hoping it would be the case. But it was not his lucky day.

  “Wild? On this side of Baltaire, horses are far too rare and expensive to be left on their own,” Conrad answered. The horse population in Northern Bralon was nowhere close to the rest of the continent. “And you know the Jade Forest is not an ideal habitat for a horse to live in with all of these thick trees and lack of fruits. Either way, we need to investigate it.”

  “I agree,” Edmond said nodding. “Then we will ride toward the voice.”

  “But Sers . . .” Merlon was frightened by the idea of finding the hideout of the renowned Brotherhood. So, he was still doing his best to block any possibilities that would lead them to danger. “ . . . what can we hope to gain against a whole castle of bandits! Please, be reasonable!”

  “My friend’s life,” Conrad said to the servant, even though he knew it won’t make a difference in his attitude. “And the bandit we interrogated back there said most of the Brotherhood’s forces have departed for somewhere else. The castle’s defenses should be weak, at least weaker than it used to be. If we have luck on our side, we may sneak into it without alarming the outlaws and find Veron before any of the bandits can spot us.”

  “But we don’t know that, not even if it’s something we can sneak into at all! And Luck, are you serious?!”

  “The result of every fight is determined by nothing but luck,” said Conrad confidently.

  “But what about skill?”

  “It just determines how much luck you need on your side.” He turned to the Baron. “Now, we need to be as silent as possible while following the source of the voice.” Edmond nodded, and Merlon too, although it was with much hesitation.

  Led by Conrad, the three men dismounted their horses, tied them to a tree, and entered into a thicker group of trees to search for the source of the sound. With every step, the sound became louder and louder. At first, they were only able to hear one horse neigh, then it became two and three. When they could finally count the number of the horses accurately, they saw a stable standing in front of them, built just outside the large and mighty walls of a great castle. It is breathtaking. Conrad thought while looking at the castle, and taking in the imposing sight.

  Unac’h Dorn had large but dilapidated walls. According to their look and structure, they were made from Greystone, a very common type of stone in Northern Baltaire, especially Loussión and Coum. On the walls, there was green vine everywhere, which gave the castle a mysterious and aged look. Like the walls surrounding it, the castle was large and mighty, but also old and ruined. Its courtyard was full of wild plants and had not been attended to for tens of years. Unac’h Dorn appeared to have been left to face its fate. Conrad didn’t know if the bandits occupied it, but it was obvious the forest had occupied Unac’h Dorn many years ago. Through the years, the Jade Forest had taken the castle over and claimed its walls for itself. That could easily be understood from the trees, the ivy, and many other green plants that covered nearly all parts of the ancient castle.

  The three men searched the walls with their eyes for a weak spot. Conrad was the first one to find what they were looking for. “There is a large breach in the wall. There.” He pointed to the breach in the old walls of Unac’h Dorn. “We will enter the walls from there, but we have to be silent and quick.”

  “This breach, isn’t it odd that it has been left unrepaired? Maybe it’s a trap.” Edmond said.

  “No, the trees are doing a good job covering it; I doubt they would station men to guard this spot. Remember the bandit back on the road said most of their forces had departed from the castle for somewhere else.”

  “My Baron, please consider it again! What will I say to your lady mother if you die here!” Merlon was begging his master, with everything he had. It was his last chance.

  The Baron unsheathed his sword and looked at the servant for the last time. “Tell her I fought valiantly.”

  “But . . .”

  “Silence servant, you are speaking out of turn. Ser Conrad, we can enter the Castle.”

  Conrad nodded to the Baron and turned towards the servant. “Look for the horses and make sure they will be ready to go upon our return.”

  “If
you can,” Merlon said.

  Conrad quickly moved up through the trees that covered the breach in the walls. The Baron followed him and tried to be as silent as possible, even though his armor made the process very hard for him.

  Once they entered, Conrad said, “Okay, I’ve counted four bandits stationed behind the gates, but apart from them, it looks pretty exposed,” checking the courtyard.

  “That means we are lucky.”

  “Yes, I hope Veron did not go with the rest of the Brotherhood and remained here.” Conrad examined the castle a bit more. Unlike its outer walls, the courtyard looked like it had been used by The Brotherhood for a very long time, as there were supplies and gears everywhere. At its center, there was a large fire left to die, covered with tents. It looks as if even The Brotherhood does not want to sleep inside the castle.

  “What should we do, Ser Conrad?” Baron Edmond asked.

  “We need to catch a bandit off guard to see if we can learn something useful.”

  “Like this?” asked a stranger’s voice. Conrad turned his head in the direction of the voice and saw a man, a man of The Brotherhood there, staring at them. There was an ugly smile on his face. A smile that meant Conrad and Edmond’s death. He has found us, and he is not alone.

  Conrad drew his sword as the bandits surrounded them. Edmond drew his sword after him too. Decorated with Gannát’s red alphyn, the hilt of the sword shined under the last light of the sun, as a cloud covered it afterwards, to call the gathering storm.

  Their situation . . . It was hopeless. Conrad counted over ten men, all well-armed. Among them, a man with white hair and red eyes with an unpleasant expression on his face pushed the smiling bandit aside and came forward. He appeared to be their leader. It must be Retlaff, the right hand of the Dark Rider that the bandit talked about. No one can be that ugly, except for a vampire.

  “Speak.” He said with his strange voice. Another Vanheimian accent. “Or die.”

  Conrad spoke to prevent Edmond from saying something stupid and putting their lives in danger. Normally, he wouldn’t prefer to communicate politely with criminals like the men of The Brotherhood, but he had to go that way to keep his head on his shoulders this time. “We are looking for a friend.” He said with a calm voice. “We don’t mean harm.” No, not with odds like this.

  Retlaff smiled. “Looking for a friend? Among scum like us?” His men burst into laughter. Their voices were ugly, and full of hatred. “Then tell me, why are your swords drawn?”

  “A good question.” Conrad quickly put his sword into his heat and hoped Edmond would follow suit. It turned out that the young the Baron was not stupid as Merlon claimed him to be. He understood what Conrad was trying to do and complied with him without hesitation.

  Conrad looked right into Retlaff’s eyes and spoke again. “We are only travelers and we aren’t looking for any kind of adventure. We just want to find someone.”

  “Travelers? Who do you think we are, a bunch of stupid Benovian Donkeyfuckers?” A large man with a very long and curly brown beard hollered, displaying his decayed teeth. And as soon as he finished his words, the bandits laughed; it looked as if they had no intention of stopping until Retlaff told them to.

  “Enough!” In a glance, they obeyed his order as if it were divine. Retlaff, the leader of the bandits, turned to Conrad again. He was a slender man but menacing all the same. His white hair was rather sparse and revealed a wide forehead. He was as pale as a bloody vampire from the tales told by crones and many could easily mistake him for one with his frightening and disturbing bright red eyes. Conrad, on the other hand, had learned enough along the way to know he was only an albino, not a monster from the scary tales, even though he seemed to be as deadly as one.

  “Dare to fool us again, and I will split your body into pieces myself.” Retlaff touched his steel as a warning. His disgusting red eyes were shining.

  “I am not trying to fool you.” Conrad attempted to hide the anger rising within, triggered by Retlaff’s threat. “We are only ordinary travelers who have been looking for a friend.”

  “Travelers?” He pointed to Edmond with his sword. “What kind of ordinary traveler dresses like a fucking Knight?”

  Edmond intervened to save the situation. “He is my guide.” He said. “I have hired him to find one of my men, who got lost in the forest.”

  “And where do you come from?” The Vampire asked, as Conrad wondered how much time they had before Retlaff finally decided that he had had enough fun for one day and ordered his men to slay him and the Baron.

  “From Ferenaon,” Conrad said.

  “It’s a long way from Ferenaon to here, to face death.” Retlaff started to walk towards them while his men followed him like a tail. They were still holding their swords, maces and axes. “Why did you come this far?”

  It is over. But I won’t give up without a fight. Conrad drew his sword again. “For a friend.”

  “For a brother. “A voice, a very familiar voice with a charismatic sound was heard from the shadows nearby. Conrad quickly turned towards the voice. From among the shadows, a dark-haired man with hazel eyes and well-woven blue clothes appeared. He was a man of short height but muscular build. His face was shaven and clear, just as usual. He could be considered handsome, just not much as he claimed to be. The Gavise of Beocur, the best and also the worst bard of all Baltaire, stood in front of them with a confident smile and his familiar frustrating expression.

  Retlaff turned his attention to him as Gavise slowly approached Conrad and the Baron. “Do you know them?” The leader of the bandits asked.

  Gavise answered Retlaff’s question. “Of course!” He said with a cheerful tone, as if it were a friend that he was talking to. “This is the man I have talked about! The fearless warrior Jarn Wittern, hailing from Utornia’s far but glorious lands.”

  One of Retlaff’s men was doubtful. “He doesn’t look like an Utornian to me. More like a fucking freebooter.”

  Another one supported him. “Yes, and what about that noble arse with him? You did not mention someone like him before.”

  Retlaff approached Gavise, slowly. “If I can remember Veron, you have said that Jarn was a fierce warrior who hated nobles to death and could be a fine addition to our cause.” He turned to Conrad, pointing to him with his red eyes. “Yet this one seems to be more of a pawn to them.” His voice sounded cold and ruthless. “But I am a man who takes chances, and I’ll give you a chance. If Veron is right, give us your noble friend, ‘Wittern’.”

  For a moment, Edmond looked at Conrad with a worried expression, to see if he was about to betray him or not. But his worry was in vain as Conrad of Battum would betray no one under any circumstances. He would rather die than betray someone, gladly.

  “No.” He raised his sword for the last time, at a point with no return. “So be it.”

  “I knew what you were up to,” Retlaff spoke while pointing his sword towards them. “You were fools to try to hunt the wolf in his very own den.”

  “Retlaff, I think there is a major misunderstanding there!” Gavise said to Retlaff, still trying to convince him. Retlaff looked at him, then turned to his men. “Take him out with them, too.”

  The men of the Brotherhood moved towards Gavise without any hesitation. “I think you made a mistake, Retlaff!”

  “No Bard, I did not.”

  Gavise drew the sword in his scabbard and ran towards Conrad and Edmond, joining them in their hopeless defense. I hope he has improved his skills with the sword in the last two weeks, or we are doomed.

  While the Riders of The Dark Horse quickly surrounded Conrad, Gavise, and Edmond, the only thing they could do was form a defensive but useless circle. The three men stood back-to-back and raised their swords towards the bandits. As the bandits were getting closer and closer, Conrad wondered if he would die that day, there, under the walls of Unac’h Dorn. He reevaluated the situation to prevent it, but again, it was hopeless. They were about to be killed by the overwhelmin
g numbers of the Brotherhood. And all they could hope for was an honorable death. If we are lucky enough, we will die by their swords. I don’t even want to think about what they will do to us if they catch us alive.

  “You are dishonorable!” The Baron shouted at Retlaff with anger.

  “We already know that, boy.” Retlaff’s men laughed. At least someone is having fun.

  “You are not only dishonorable but also cowardly!” The Baron spoke, holding his sword tightly.

  “Cowardly?” laughed Retlaff disturbingly, making strange noises with his mouth. What kind of beast is he? “You are not even worth my time, you piece of shit.”

  “Then face me in a fair duel.” The Baron of Gannadár said bravely.

  The men of The Brotherhood laughed and laughed as if it were the funniest thing they had ever heard. Yet unlike them, Retlaff was serious. He made all of his men stop with a sign, and then spoke to the Baron. “No men has ever lived after calling me a coward. Raise your sword, dead meat, I will slay you with my blade.”

  Not waiting a moment longer, Retlaff rushed towards Edmond de Gannát and made a serial attack, crying with a disturbing voice. Edmond, able to react to Retlaff’s move, made his own attack and pushed Retlaff away with a kick. As Retlaff raised his sword, the rain fell, and the thunder crashed. The gathering storm, it is finally here. Conrad thought as the strong winds blew his hair.

  Edmond stood against Retlaff raising his sword. Conrad quickly calculated him. He was giving his weight to the ground and has positioned himself correctly. The way he held his sword also could be evidence against Merlon’s allegations about his skill at the sword. Edmond was clearly no stranger to the sword, but still, Retlaff was an expert. And although the Baron of Gannadár had done very well so far, Conrad had to be quick to interfere with the fight between the two before something bad happened to the young Baron.