by Shawn Muller
The citadel itself looked like a standard castle in my eyes, fairly high walls, roughly thirty odd metres in height with battlements evenly spaced along the top where guards could be seen patrolling. Rounded towers were spaced throughout as well, with huge catapults and ballistae on each one pointing out towards the town. The gatehouse was slightly higher and thicker than the walls, with a strong, thick fire-hardened gate open to the street. Directly behind it was a thick metal-banded portcullis that led through the gatehouse to another portcullis. Once again, many murder holes and arrow slots were dotted throughout the roof of the gatehouse entrance. Either these King Trolls were really as bad as they sounded, or the previous owner was ultra-paranoid.
Arriving in a courtyard, we were greeted by an old man, dressed in rich satin hose and doublet, the colour of a bright blue spring sky. His long flowing wavy gray hair hung loosely down is back, almost to a wide yellow sash tied around his waist. He bowed low towards the prince, before straightening with a huge smile.
“Welcome back, my prince!” He greeted with wide-open arms.
“It’s a pleasure to be back, my friend,” Prince Marcus greeted the old man as he dismounted.
The two men embraced before Jeroch and Smoothie exchanged their warm embraces with the man.
“Come meet our saviours, Sizakel, meet Bob and Max. They are not of this world, but that is a long story which has to wait, I’m afraid,” Prince Marcus introduced us to Sizakel, with whom we shook hands.
Stable hands and pages took our horses as Sizakel led us up wide stone stairs towards the grand double door entrance of the prince’s home.
“Please, Sizakel, tell me what has been happening here. Has Wendyaline truly tried to take over?” Prince Marcus asked, with anger showing on his face.
“She has but tried, my lord, but without trying to take your throne by force, which she cannot do without landing an army here which would be suicide. She has failed as between the captain in charge of the guards and I we managed to relegate her to the west wing of the castle. However, she somehow manages to sneak past the guards and does enter the throne room when no one is around. We think that she is using sorcery on the guards to blind them,” Sizakel whispered to the prince, just barely loud enough for it to carry to us.
The prince and Sizakel, who we learned was Prince Marcus’s advisor and confidant, continued to speak as we walked down a wide passage towards the throne room.
The passageway had a thick, red carpet with delicate embroidery along its borders running the entire length of the passage. Beautifully sculpted statues lined the walkway with finely woven tapestries portraying various scenes of battles, landscapes and of the rich history of the prince lined the walls. Arches leading off to various other parts of the castle were evenly spaced along the long passageway.
Soon, we approached a beautifully carved double door where the throne room was. Magnificent animals were painstakingly carved into the doors, the detail too numerous to take in such a short time as two fully armoured knights opened the door for the prince. Both knights proudly saluted the prince by raising their massive, six-foot long broadswords to their visors before turning about with perfect precision and pushing against the brass knobs on each door. The prince nodded his thanks to the two knights before entering his throne room, closely followed by Jeroch who eyed each knight up and down in appreciation.
The whole procession came to a sudden halt as Prince Marcus stopped just inside of the doorway in shock.
“What do you think you are doing?” he bellowed at a smug-looking woman who sat on his throne.
“Now now dear brother, is that the way to great your only sister,” she replied.
“Only sister or not, get the hell off of my throne and out of my castle, before I throw you out,” he whispered, voice full of venom.
“You’re no fun. I was merely here to ensure that your realm ran smoothly while you were out. It seems that I was here for good reason, considering your, near misfortune,” she purred while inspecting the long, manicured nails on her right hand.
“Seems like too much coincidence if you ask me,” Jeroch retorted.
“Nobody did ask you, did they? Servants are not asked for opinions, only given orders,” Wendyaline shot back.
Jeroch visibly swelled in anger at that, and Prince Marcus reached out and lightly touched his forearm, calming the big man.
“I can see when I am not wanted here. I will be leaving shortly, so no need to get angry,” she said as she rose from the throne.
Three figures emerged from the shadows behind Princess Wendyaline, two heavily armed and armoured knights and a sorcerer.
A black mist oozed from them, a feeling of dread, of evil and terror reached out through the tendrils of the mist. The group took a slow, sedate pass pace from the raised dais towards the doors we had just entered. Their path headed directly for us, seemingly to force us aside in a final act of insolence. The prince and his men stepped aside, while Max and I not use to being bullied around like that from our military background, stood our ground.
The waves of magic hit us with a force almost like a physical hammer of hatred and fear that was buffeting my soul. Panic welled up inside, the natural instinct of flight tried to kick in. Max visibly flinching and I barely held my composure as I wanted to fall down and curl into a small ball to hide from the approaching terror. The knight bearing down on me offered a particular evil smile as his magic worked on me. He seemed to feed off the magically induced fear I felt, his perverse pleasure showed in his eyes as they twinkled in power he thought he had over me.
I stoically stood my ground and he made to forcibly walk over me. At the last second, I stepped aside. This caught him off guard as I grabbed his back-plated armour and gave him a solid shove from behind with my boot. He staggered uncontrollably into the edge of the open door causing him to swing wildly around and crash to the floor in a tumble of armour and weaponry. His armoured partner swung around in my direction, only to have his knee collapse when Max kicked it in from behind, followed by a kick between the shoulder blades that sent him crashing and sliding across the floor towards the door.
The knights’ sudden fall caused the sorcerer to reel back in shock and pain. The black mist evaporated from the knights and looked as if it was sucked back into the body of the sorcerer. He let out a cry of pain before the last of the mist disappeared, leaving him sucking in large gulps of air. The reaction of Prince Marcus’s guards was swift as they drew their weapons and held them levelled towards Princess Wendyaline’s fallen bodyguards. Smoothie and Thackeray both filled themselves with power and glowed with menace as the sorcerer slowly picked himself off the floor, wiping spittle from his mouth as he tried to compose himself. Princess Wendyaline stood behind the fallen men, eyes wide open and her right hand raised half way to her open mouth as her bodyguards were effectively neutralised.
“I suggest you climb on your ship straight away before more mishaps happen, dear sister,” Prince Marcus sneered.
Ashen, Wendyaline backed away before turning around and fleeing through the door towards her rooms, presumably to pack her bags and leave. Her bodyguards gathered themselves and limped off after her. Prince Marcus let out an explosive breath of air once they were gone.
“What the hell happened there?” he exclaimed.
“Well, sir,” I began, “This is the first time that we have come into contact with magic as such, so when those two idiots advanced on us, well, I kinda froze from the spell. When he tried to walk over me, my training and instincts kicked in, and unfortunately, or should I say fortunately, so did Max’s. Otherwise the other guy may have needed a box to go home in.”
“Do you know who they were? Of course you don’t. They were my sister’s personal, and I do mean personal, bodyguards. You have now made mortal enemies with them. Friend or not of mine, they will have you killed for that slight on them. Heavens above!”
“Our apologies, my lord,” Max said. “Put it down to our ignorance of your lan
d, culture and politics. There was no ill intent on our part to dishonour you. We were trying to defend ourselves at the least, sir.”
“They are correct, my lord. Their ignorance did put your sister in her place,” Sizakel said.
With a grunt, Prince Marcus sat heavily on his throne, and beckoned to a servant for a goblet of wine.
“Sizakel, you are correct as always. Your apology my new friends is not needed. I think that you should perhaps attend some lessons from Sizakel on our customs, politics and history. And Jeroch, I want you to arrange for them to attend combat training so that they may be able to defend themselves better if attacked by possible assassins,” Prince Marcus decreed.
“Sir, they attacked and overcame heavily armed and armour knights wrapped in a fear intimidation spell with their bare hands, not wearing any armour themselves, and you want me to train them?” Jeroch asked shaking his head.
“Yes, they may have some unusual potential for us with our next war games against my brother and the orcs,” Prince Marcus said, a cunning glint in his eye.
“But still, they need to be fitted out for armour and to be trained how to fight in it, seeing as they are going about making enemies. What say you my friends? Willing to learn a few new skills?” Prince Marcus asked us smiling.
“Well, seeing as I left all of my old enemies behind on earth, I do need new ones here,” Max replied.
“So it seems right. Okay sir, you’ve got a deal. Maybe we can learn a few new skills here, and maybe we can teach a few as well,” I replied winking to Max who grinned back.
“Excellent. A fitting end to an otherwise stressed day. Sizakel! A small feast is in order I think!” Prince Marcus said.
The past few weeks for Max and I consisted of typical basic training. We marched, about turned right and left and saluted with a group of new recruits. Once Jeroch was satisfied we had actually participated in a military somewhere, we were moved on to an intermediate group, where we learnt the basics of swordsmanship, using a bow and crossbow as well as a few other basic weapons.
Surprising to us, as well as Jeroch and Farpae, who was the instructor, we knew a fair amount of the basics. Soon the really fun stuff started, warfare tactics, which actually turned out to be boring for us as we knew how the grunts fought during the medieval days back on earth, nothing new there for us. So we plodded on, moving on to a more advanced group which involved fighting from horseback as well.
This being new to us was a welcome challenge, and soon a friendly rivalry built up between Max and I to see who the better horseman was. I dominated Max in jousting, where as he was a better horse archer than me. But fighting hand to hand on horseback was a constant tie. We were equally matched and a drastic change in tactics on my side changed that.
The continuous bashing away at each other’s shields with the practise swords while the horses danced around accomplished nothing. We developed quite a crowd each time we fought, with heavy betting between our fellow soldiers to see who would win. I had had enough of this mindless action and decided to try something rather risky, Impi style.
As we approached each other yet again for another round of shield bashing, I went in slightly slower than normal. I had not tightened my shield straps to my left arm as per normal, instead holding on to it with my hand.
I watched and waited as Max raised his sword to begin his charge, waiting for the perfect moment to try out my idea. He raised his arm and tensed his body as he was about to spur his horse into a burst of speed. I dropped my sword to the ground, watching his eyes widen slightly in surprise.
I grabbed the edge of my heavy round shield and threw it at him like one would a Frisbee. It flew straight at his chest, causing him to drop his sword arm and bring his shield around to block my shield at the same time. I reached down the left flank of my horse where I had lightly strapped a massive two-handed wooden mallet. Gripping it tightly in both hands, I swung it around from its strapping.
The momentum from the backhanded swing stuck Max on his shield which was tangled up with his sword. It hit him hard enough to send him flying off the horse, crashing down in a groaning heap in the mud of the training ground. The following hushed silence was deafening as I rounded my horse and quickly jumped off to see if he was all right.
“Max, you okay?” I asked.
“Piss off,” Was all he could whisper back.
Farpae approached with Thackeray to help with any healing that may be needed.
“Bob, come closer,” Max wheezed in pain.
I leant forward to hear what he wanted to say, only to get a fist on the nose.
“That’s for cheating,” Max said grinning.
Laughing, I held my bleeding nose with one hand, and helped him to his feet with the other. The crowd of soldiers cheered for us, swarming over us in their relief that Max will be alright.
“All right, all right, back to your training men. Show’s over,” Jeroch ordered as he approached the training arena.
“I take it that you are fit, Max?” Jeroch asked after we saluted him.
“Yes, sir, I may have a few bruises, but otherwise I will live.”
“Good. I want the both of you and Farpae to get cleaned up right away, we have an appointment with the prince at lunchtime,” With that Jeroch saluted us in return and walked back to the castle.
“Wonder what it’s all about?” I asked.
“I have no idea.” Farpae answered.
We left for the barracks we were staying in, and after a quick clean-up and change of clothing into something more respectable, the three of us headed up towards the castle. We were led to Prince Marcus’s private dining room, where he was waiting for us along with Jeroch and Smoothie. We exchanged greetings and a servant offered us a goblet of wine before we sat down to eat a light lunch.
“No doubt you are wandering why I asked you to lunch today,” the prince said to us as we nodded in agreement.
“I have been following your progress through your training, and I am very happy to see how well you have fitted in with your fellow soldiers. Some of the reports I have received are full of glowing recommendations.”
We nodded our thanks to him and Jeroch at this surprise.
“It seems more than one officer, Farpae and Jeroch included, are of the opinion that one or both of you should take an officers commission.”
I almost choked on a piece of honeyed bread while Max sat with his mouth open.
“Sir, with all due respect,” I began to say after gaining my composure.
“I know exactly what you are about to say. And yes, I do believe that the nobility as well as other officers will not be very pleased with that proposition. So, after careful consideration, Jeroch and I have decided to suggest to you to start a mercenary group, whom I will hire as extra protection for the duration of the winter months. As you will no doubt find out soon enough,” Prince Marcus continued, “the annual troll attacks during the winter are rather intense and often brutal when the trolls make it to the city wall. So, under the guise of mercenaries, you will work for me, as a captain, and raise a company of fighters with the same dirty, underhanded skill and courage that the both of you have shown the past few weeks. And, to ensure that things run smoothly, Farpae will be part of your company, as liaison between you and me.”
With that final bombshell it was Farpae’s turn to choke back a mouth full of wine.
“Sir, I thank you for the offer, but I cannot accept such a responsibility as the one you have just given me,” I said.
“It is not a gift Bob, it is an order. You and Max show too much potential as leaders not to be used. Your perspective and off-world experiences are of great value to us. So I order you to start this mercenary company,” Jeroch told me.
“Besides, you will have the full backing of me and a hefty treasury to work with. I have great plans for you two. So don’t let me down,” With that final word from Prince Marcus, we finished lunch in a state of mild shock before heading back to our barracks.
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nbsp; We were greeted by a guard at the barracks, who informed us that our goods had been moved to an old training ground outside the walls and that we were to make our way there.
“Great, now they are kicking out the city,” Max complained.
“And here I was, a lieutenant to the prince, bright future ahead of me. Look at me now,” Farpae whined.
“Cheer up lads,” I said as I put my arms over their shoulders with a smile on my face. “Let’s find a tavern and think things through.”
This brightened them up as we walked down the main street to find a place to drink as my mind raced with possibilities.
“So this is it?” Max asked me early the next morning.
We were standing in front of a rather plain building outside the northern city walls.
“Why is the sun so bright?” Farpae moaned, glaring at the rising sun.
