Homecoming

by Tull Harrison

  Delmer wandered around the camp, inspecting the troops and infrastructure. Army-registered tents were grouped together, while other assorted tents formed a similar grouping. Officers' quarters were located between the two sides.

  Finally, he headed towards where the horses were tethered. The majority were military war horses, but there was also a good quantity of palfreys and even some draft horses. Mares and geldings, though few, were separated from the stallions.

  Though I'm sure a farmer wouldn't mind if he ended up with a foal with war-horse blood. Delmer laughed out loud at the thought

  He reached Fror's side and patted the young stallion on the nose. Stroking the horse's cheek, he spotted another familiar face.

  "Lancelet," he murmured, heading towards his faithful charger.

  Morag yelped happily and put her two front paws on the horse's chest. Other horses would have spooked, but Lancelet was used to the young dog and happily nuzzled her. Tymon didn't seem to react, but the falcon was probably still tired.

  Someone must have brought Lancelet down after yesterday's battle, no doubt after witnessing Fror's antics before the fighting began. Delmer laughed for only the second time in days.

  "Sorry, Fror, you did well yesterday, but your father is just more collected,” Delmer said by way of an apology. “If you don't mind, I'll ride him from now on."

  "I had a stable hand bring him down from Kingdom Cove after I saw how high-strung Fror was yesterday," Tully's voice said warmly behind him.

  Delmer grinned. "Your words echo my earlier thoughts exactly. Thank you."

  Tully spoke quietly. "Sire, I'm not questioning your authority — but is the fight today the only way to resolve the war? I do not wish to see another one of Malzepher's rulers die."

  "As you can imagine, I truly wish that this was not the only way. However, I refuse to let thousands of my people die senselessly at the hands of the Noennaan army. And once our army was defeated, Noenna's would converge on the city. Innocent men, women, and children would be ravished and murdered. I cannot let that happen.” His voice trembled with ill-concealed passion as he went on, “My grandparents, my uncle and aunt, and even my father were all trained in fighting. Though my father never saw battle, he was trained as a soldier, and had me trained in the same way. I cannot hesitate to risk my life for my country if it will resolve this conflict. I will protect my kingdom."

  "I understand, Sire. I, too, wish events had not come to this. Now, according to our scouts, the Noennaan army has made permanent camp a mark's ride away. I have come up with a party to attend you when you make your challenge." Tully paused as if wanting to say something else, but kept silent.

  Patting Lancelet a final time, Delmer slowly made his way through the camp, searching for privacy.

  The act he was to undertake in the afternoon was not something he relished. Though he was good with a blade, he preferred the range of a bow. Hand-to-hand combat for the sake of his country was brave and heroic, but Delmer was afraid.

  Though I may not be a coward, neither am I brave.

  Slowly, he made his way around the camp. As he went along, he gently roused those who were to be in his parley delegation.

  Simeon, who would be representing all peasants in their delegation, nodded warmly to the king, reaching down to scratch Morag. "Ho, young Delmer. I would wish you good morning, but my greeting would be false. In any case, it seems you are no longer the 'young Delmer' who was my secret pupil."

  Delmer managed to smile. "May fate be kind to you, Simeon," he replied, using the formal greeting Low-born used.

  The old man's smile grew wider. "Give me just a moment and I will be ready. I did not expect to be leaving so early for this parley."

  "I had not thought to leave this early either, but I am...restless." Delmer finally settled on the word.

  "Nervous and scared, more like,” Simeon retorted gently. “I would be too; and I know you well enough that you can't hide your feelings from me."

  Delmer acknowledged the truth of his statement with a nod. He decided to change topics, "I brought a captain's uniform for you. If you don't mind, I picked your colors."

  He handed the uniform to his mentor. The cloth was a typical Malzepherian brown, but the sash that belted the tunic was royal blue and gold. The outfit came complete with a new sword. Again, the scabbard had been hastily made and was in Simeon's new colors. New armor had not been readily available in the correct colors, but the man’s old helmet had been refitted with the right feathers.

  Simeon's voice was tight with emotion. "Sire, I thank you for this honor."

  When Delmer was young, he had spotted a banner of the same colors as the sash he now bore, displayed in Simeon's personal bedroom. When he asked Simeon about it, he had said nothing. Being resourceful even then, Delmer had checked old records and discovered that Simeon's father had been a ranking officer during the Revolution.

  He had died with a full noble's honor; which Simeon and his mother had never claimed for some unknown reason. Now Delmer had restored Simeon's nobility whether he wanted it or not, because only nobles could be ranking officers.

  Delmer spoke of the mare that he had seen the day before. "I provided new tack for Gaia in your colors as well. Meet me at the edge of the horse enclosure when you are changed."

  Though Simeon had retained little of what was rightfully his, he had kept his father's stallion and had used it to start a line of war horses that even nobles fought over. Of course, he had kept the best, a young mare, for himself and trained her as a war horse.

  Simeon nodded sharply at Delmer's words. His eyes were bright, but no tears were in sight. Knowing his mentor would not like to be seen in a state of weakness, the king left. From Simeon's tent, he headed towards the others of the party. It was now later in the day, and everyone was awake and clearly anxious. He first headed to Captain Teton's tent.

  Teton emerged in full regalia, but the bow and quivers reminded Delmer that he was still deadly. He had light, leather chest armor on, but no other protection.

  "I am ready now, Sire. I would follow you to gather the rest of the delegation,’ Teton spoke with respect, but more than a little tension.

  Delmer nodded permission and then moved on. Of my commanders, Teton is the worst at concealing his feelings.

  While in the archers' quarters, he retrieved two of his most talented archers. They shared a tent, as was standard. Both appeared immediately. He was still surprised that one boy should be noble, while the other a peasant.

  While it was not forbidden for peasants to join the army, they were discouraged from doing so. The army always had more noble recruits than were desired; this left no room for peasants. Still, it was not unheard of for a peasant boy to join the military, especially the archery unit.

  His political training apparently was still functioning, because Delmer recalled both boys' names, though he had never met them personally. The nobleman's name was Alain, while the peasant was called Cory.

  If he recalled rightly, Alain was wicked with the bow, but his humor was wickeder yet. Nevertheless, the boy was extremely popular with the other nobles. Cory was never far from his friend's side. Low-born he might be, but not even the arrogant nobles could keep Cory away from court.

  Delmer had had a good amount of time to observe the boys while he was still a prince, and had come to realize the true nature of the relationship. Alain had thus far turned down all advances by young noblewomen; this confirmed his theory. As far as he could tell, no one else, except perhaps Teton, knew the truth; the ladies assumed Alain was playing hard to get. If anyone ever guessed the reality, the boys would be publicly shunned.

  Delmer did not particularly care; and the situation caused some amusement for him during court sessions. He could see the secret gestures the boys made and the looks they gave each other when they assumed no one was watching.

  Alain's voice broke through his speculations. "Sire, it is an honor to accompany you.”

  It seemed Delmer�
�s mind was desperate to avoid thought of the upcoming fight...

  "Yes, we are honored indeed," Cory added, speaking up boldly.

  "You have earned this position, since you were recommended by my advisor and your captain," Delmer said. They’d better be good, since they are to act as bodyguards. "Come, we still must fetch Captain Evian, Captain Joanne, and General Portam's second. Tully has promised to get the last member of this party."

  The men nodded and followed him. General Portam would care for the camp, while his second attended the parley. The other generals were still at sea, though they were to be called in this morning.

  They quickly fetched the captain of the High-Born infantry, Evian. He was a giant of a man with an easy grin, no matter what the situation. Despite this, Delmer knew he had one of the sharpest minds in the army. His weapons of choice were a gigantic broadsword and a nasty-looking battle axe.

  Then Delmer called upon Captain Joanne, his only female commander. She had scars crossing her face, the lines enhancing her beauty rather than destroying it. When she arrived in Malzepher, she had stated she was out of the far south. She had instantly won renown for her skill and was rewarded with her position.

  Turning towards the command tent, they found General Portam and Captain Saurian. Delmer quickly ran over the strategy with Portam once more and left them. Saurian saw his king and commander off with a deep nod that was almost a bow.

  Having gathered the delegation, Delmer headed towards the horses. Simeon greeted them first, already mounted on Gaia. He held Lancelet's reins in his hand, and grooms held the other horses behind Simeon. Tossing Tymon into the sky, Delmer mounted without ceremony and the others followed.

  Captain Joanne rode by far the most remarkable steed of any, even including Lancelet or Gaia. The mare was the daughter of the horse she had arrived on. Her chestnut coat glistened, and she surveyed the area with intelligent eyes. Her skill on horseback was partly the reason why Joanne had been able to rise to the rank of captain.

  Delmer urged Lancelet into a trot, realizing his own horse was already fully recovered. He was glad to have him back, instead of the less experienced Fror.

  They met Tully where they had agreed, and Travis was with him. Captain Teton smiled at the former guard, who had been promoted to sergeant and now rode Fror. The young archers grinned too, joining Travis.

  Tully bore Delmer's personal standard once again. It unsurprisingly featured a fleet hound in black against a white background. It was plain, but everyone could recognize easily recognize it. His horse was a steady gelding called Patience.

  Finally ready, the delegation set off for the Noennaan camp. According to scout reports Delmer had reviewed with his council the previous night, the enemy camp was a quarter day's ride away. They would have to bypass the pirates to reach them. Morag ran alongside the horses, perfectly oblivious to the tension in them.

  Happily, they ran into no more trouble on their way than Fror trying to bolt from Travis. Lancelet snapped at his son, and Fror settled down at once.

  Noenna's camp was much better organized than Delmer's, which had been hastily assembled. It was clear where the leaders' tents were. A shout of alarm went up as soon as their party came into sight. Delmer nodded to Tully, who gave the signal for parley. More shouts were heard as Tymon made a steep dive, pulling up just in time to land on Delmer's outstretched wrist.

  Immediately the leaders of the Noennaan army appeared. There were several officers, but Delmer quickly spotted the general. Behind the officers stood King Marus and 'Captain' Rogan.

  Seeing Delmer, Marus ordered his way to the front. Far from being unobservant, he noted that all the archers had their bows trained on their respective leader's opponent.

  This may be a parley, but it is far from peaceful. If someone breaks it, they will be dead instantly.

  "King Marus, I have come to make a request." Delmer began firmly.

  "So I have gathered," Marus replied dryly. "Perhaps your request will be that I spare your life when you are conquered. Or have you come to surrender?"

  Delmer frowned. This would be even more difficult than he had expected. "No, my request is not of that nature. I have come to request that this war be decided in personal combat.”

  Marus’ face showed clear surprise. "I did not expect Malzepherians to be such cowards that they would shirk a battle." When Delmer did not respond, King Marus continued, "I have superior numbers. Why should I give up that advantage?"

  Delmer took a breath to compose himself and spoke loudly enough for anyone in the camp to hear. "King Marus, you have attacked us without reason or cause. You have broken the treaty formed at the end of the Revolution. Before the eyes of your own subjects, you will be seen treacherous. No doubt even your soldiers are hesitant to fight this war. They will not wish to slaughter innocents." His eyes glittered dangerously as he went on, "Malzepher is well within its rights to demand combat between champions. However, if you choose not to fight us, you’ll wish you had."

  Ignoring Delmer's statement, Marus reacted angrily. "Where is my ambassador, boy? Why is she not with you?"

  Tymon shrieked at the foreign king's tone and he recoiled slightly. Smiling faintly, Delmer replied, "She returned home to report to you."

  "Unlikely. I have heard from Rogan that you and she had formed your own alliance. She has been declared a traitor and you will be attacked for harboring her," Marus declared.

  Delmer tried to keep his voice steady. "She is not anywhere within the bounds of Malzepher, I assure you. Ask any citizen of Kingdom Cove. In fact, Rogan would be able to confirm that she left the castle."

  Rogan nodded at the truth of Delmer's words. Marus frowned but said nothing.

  Stating the next the words calmly and surely, Delmer made sure each one hit home. "Again, I offer a private battle to decide the fate of this war. If you do not accept, I assure you that you will be considered tyrannous and cowardly by your own people."

  King Marus glowered like a small child and looked at his general, nodding.

  "We will accept your offer, King Delmer,” the man said. “As general of this army, I assure you a champion will be picked and will be ready at the second stroke of the afternoon."

  "Thank you, General. There is a battle site set up midway between our camps. If you wish, inspect it yourself."

  With those words, Delmer turned and headed towards camp with Morag on his heels. Everyone but Alain and Cory followed immediately. The two archers remained with their bows trained on the camp until their king was out of range.

  Delmer's head spun like it had in battle. Time seemed to slow, and he could not make out his delegation's words, though their actions were sharpened in his mind.

  He had nearly three marks until the agreed-upon hour, but the marks passed in a blur. Delmer was only vaguely aware of putting on his armor once they arrived back in camp. He did not armor Morag or Lancelet, since they would not be fighting. At some point, he had tossed his gyrfalcon skyward so he could hunt.

  Beyond putting on armor, later Delmer remembered mounting Lancelet and his full army following him out to the prepared field. He had lost track of Morag. He took his place and eyed his opponent. Even in battle mindset, Delmer realized the man he faced now was nothing like the one in his dream.

  In his dream the man had been taller than he. His true opponent was short and wiry. He possessed none of the bulk his dream opponent had had.

  Letting his mind drift back to nothing but the fight at hand, Delmer waited, still measuring his opponent. This was no rookie he faced, who would dive in the instant the combat started. Instead, the man moved slowly towards his left. Not about to allow an opening, Delmer moved to the little man's own left.

  As they circled each other slowly, he could hear the crowd's disappointed murmurs at their slow, cautious start. As soon as his opponent noticed that Delmer had let his defenses drop a little, he attacked.

  Delmer had been expecting the attack. The little man moved with more speed than
he had thought possible, but he still managed to parry the blow with the end of his own sword.

  He spun away from the attack to get around the man's back, knowing that his opponent had stuck out his foot, trying to trip him.

  Gracefully he broke off his spin and avoided the outstretched leg. The man did not allow him to recover but launched yet another attack. Delmer fended it off with some effort, and then began an attack of his own.

  The wiry man was an excellent fighter. As soon as Delmer could no longer press offensively, the fighter hurled a dagger at the king. Caught by surprise, Delmer raised his shield even as the man launched an odd sideswipe with his sword.

  The blow was not aimed at Delmer's body but at his shield, which promptly went flying. Without a second thought, Delmer changed to a two-handed grip. He dared not recover his shield.

  I'm losing! Malzepher will be lost! a voice screamed in the back of his mind, but Delmer did not allow it to distract him.

  Unthinkingly, Delmer launched another attack. He saw his opponent smirk at the simplicity of his play. Delmer smirked himself as he brought his knee straight up into his opponent's groin, using a common street-fighting move.

  The man screamed, staggering backwards, and in the process losing his own shield. Delmer could not allow him time to recover. He charged at the man, putting more force behind his blows. His opponent barely managed to parry the strikes, let alone counter them.

  Gauging that his street-fighting techniques were working, Delmer adapted them to his sword. He managed to break the man's nose with his hilt. It only seemed to make the fighter more determined to win; he launched more daggers at Delmer. This time, a blade sliced the king’s left shoulder.

  The man ran out of daggers at the same time that Delmer realized he no longer had the agility he needed. Both fighters became sloppy, and the combat was left to sheer force of will and endurance.

  They fought on and on, unaware of the crowd surrounding them. Delmer did not know how long they battled, but it grew so dark that if the king were not so intent on the fight, he would hardly have been able to make out his opponent.