To Forge a King- the Chronicles of Ellorhim

by Thomas Adams

  Ivar said, “They are ancient and unrivaled swords. In the hands of a master swordsman they are equal to a hundred krigers. The art of their forging has never been known to man. It is reputed they were made by the gods and imbued with deep archania. And, they are priceless beyond all measure. You must protect this sword Kyrr. It is a powerful weapon against our foes, both the Erhand and the Illr-hrae. They were used in the Troll Wars and earlier, in the First Age to fight the evil dead. It will be needed again one day, sooner than we suspect.”

  Kyrr nodded, “Aye Master Ivar, I will.”

  Wulfgar then added, “Some of the old legends tell that in our greatest time of need, the Nordbrandr, were given by the gods to the rulers of Vesfalruk to defeat the Illr-hrae and then later, to drive back the Imperium and Osterider invaders. A great evil aided our foes and the swords were meant to even the odds against the fell magic and slave armies from those foulest of foes.”

  This news shocked Kyrr and he looked with new respect at Brotjnar. His hand wrapped around the hilt and he held tightly to the blade. Wulfgar gave Kyrr a knowing look and winked. No one else seemed to notice.

  ***

  Later that evening Bax, Ivar and Wulfgar sat in the common room of the Red Harp enjoying tall mugs of freshly brewed lager. The remnants of the evening meal were spread across the table. The fire crackled warmly in the fireplace. Pipe smoke wafted up to the stained beams overhead and the low murmur of conversation filled the room. A congenial and relaxed air pervaded the old inn’s crowded common room.

  “Do you know who he reminds me of?” said Master Wulfgar.

  Bax shook his head, “Who, oh esteemed and venerable archiver? The last king I suppose.”

  “Venerable? Hah! I can still out swing you with a sword my young friend!” groused Wulfgar. The Master Archivist had been renowned as one of the best blade masters in the kingdom when he was younger.

  “Sword, sure, I dare say you could but not with an axe!” replied Bax.

  Wulfgar grimaced and punched Bax in the shoulder, “Aye, the last king. The lad reminds me of the statue of Brandt III in the Low Fort courtyard. A remarkable resemblance if I dare say.”

  Bax said, “I was only jesting. I had not noticed the resemblance.”

  Ivar though, appeared lost in thought but then suddenly his expression changed and a look of understanding settled on across his features. It was the look of someone who had just figured out a solution to a problem that was bugging them for some time. He leaned forward and slapped a large calloused hand on the table.

  “You are both close to the mark but not quite there!” Ivar interjected.

  Wulfgar said, “You know, he is rather taller and leaner than Brandt III. The face though, it is very close.”

  Ivar looked at both of them and said cryptically, “Close, but a few generations removed.”

  Wulfgar and Bax looked at Ivar strangely, “What on earth do you mean by that? There are no generations after Brandt III.” Wulfgar replied.

  “Not after, before and not the statue in the Low Fort but the other statue. He looks exactly like the one by the door to the lower halls, the one in the adjutant’s courtyard. He is the spitting image of his father!” Ivar exclaimed excitedly.

  Bax and Wulfgar looked at Ivar; their confusion was totally evident on their faces. Comprehension dawned in Wulfgar’s eyes, “Have you lost your mind? How many mugs have you had tonight?” snorted Wulfgar.

  “Don’t believe me? Go look for yourselves, tomorrow. Take the boy with you on some pretext. You will see what has been a bug in my short clothes for nigh on two year’s now! He looks like Brandt I. And, Master Archiver, you of all people know Brandt’s family hails from these parts. You also you know the tale? You know the one I speak of? There is the legend of a missing son, yes? The lost and forgotten prince? It was always said Brandt had two sons but one died while an infant. But it was rumored, in the legend, that a Druid took one of the boys away. No one ever knew why or found out more.”

  “You have lost what little sanity you had left old man.” the archivist chuckled. The two were actually almost the same age. But Wulfgar had always called Ivar an old man for some reason. Bax had gone very quiet suddenly.

  Ivar continued, “Out of nowhere the boy ‘appears’, with no memories, speaking an antiquated form of our language, and with a Nordbrandr nonetheless? No one knows or claims a boy, one who is obviously Frey? A boy with uncanny sword skill and speed. What more do you need old friend?”

  “Wulfgar, what was Brandt I’s favorite weapon?” asked Bax.

  Bax, more than the other two remembered the circumstances of when the boy had shown up in Tanic. He still saw the lad standing before him at the same table they sat at now, covered in grime, hungry, wearing naught but rags and clutching that unusual blade, a bastard sword.

  He was unafraid, tall and upright, intelligence and strength prominent in his face even though he had to be hurting, afraid and starving, with no memory of his past, no prospects and no family to aid him. He’d seemed well, very noble thought Bax at the time. His character was unbroken and strong, even in the face of great misfortune, adversity and despair.

  No, something more than just noble, he seemed kingly, someone who would be the epitome of a leader, someone who guts it out through their own pain and poor circumstance to be his best. Of all the lines in the Runa, of all the legends and stories of Brandt I, there was one theme throughout them all. What stood out was the will to persevere and triumph over adversity and personal tragedy and to struggle through all obstacles. And, to do so with honor, grace, humility and compassion for the safety and security of the people of Vesfalruk.

  The boy had never lied, begged, cried, nor stole. He had snuck into a barn and a woodshed to get some sleep and shelter from the cold and rain. But, Kura, the man that had rousted the lad from the wood shed had told Bax during his investigation into the boy’s circumstances that he had also stacked all the wood in the shed and sharpened the axes.

  Wulfgar looked curiously at Bax. Bax said, “A bastard sword, everyone knows that.”

  A look of reluctant understanding now settled across Wulfgar’s features. “Impossible! Then he could be the boy from the Prophecy? That is Brandt’s sword? I thought it was in Kimera in the King’s Hall?”

  “You forget that the Sword of Knowledge is an arming sword and not a bastard sword.” Ivar clarified. Ivar was a Grand Master of the Sword and his primary weapon was also the bastard sword. “Brandt’s war sword was called SwordBreaker and it was a bastard sword. It was beyond rare. But, the legends say he was big enough to use it like a longsword if he wanted. He usually fought with SwordBreaker in one hand and a skeggaxe in the other.”

  Bax chimed in, “Aye, he was a Grand Master of axe and sword and frequently used the hand axe or hammer instead of a shield. None could withstand him in battle.”

  “The boy also prefers this style. He already prefers two weapons to a shield. And, there is one other thing we have all forgotten” Ivar interjected. “The boy’s speed is frankly amazing. His quickness is unmatched. In a few years he will be as fast as a Grand Master. When he reaches the War Age he will likely be the fastest swordsman in the kingdom. Few men will be able to match him. No one was ever that quick but one, Brandt.”

  Wulfgar slowly nodded his head in astonishment, “I have not yet seen him fight. When you combine all these facts it makes for a compelling argument. I want to investigate this further, we need be sure though. Tomorrow, I will take him to the statue. I want to see him beside it. Then I will return to Kimera and go through the archives. See what I can dig up on SwordBreaker and this lost prince story.”

  Chapter 6

  The Discovery

  There has been no King in Vesfalruk for over a hundred years. However, the Druids foretold the King’s line would be restored at the time of Vesfalruk’s greatest need. At the time, this led to much speculation about the alleged missing Prince Jan Brandt Rodull. Over the years, with no heir’s return, the missing
prince was forgotten as well. When the thought of Jan Brandt was brought up by the subjects’ or leaders of Vesfal he was oft called the Forgotten Prince. The commoners held great reverence for the Rodulls. Brandt I was a wildly popular ruler during his reign. He was the legendary warrior that saved to kingdom and drove out the Erhand. His sons were also held in high regard. But, many of the kingdom’s jarls and merchants despised the Rodulls and the formation of the Guild Halls by Brandt I’s royal edict. They heavily resented the Guild Tax and the Rodulls’ popularity with the lower classes. To this day the Rodulls were resented by one in three jarls and most of the wealthier merchants. The majority of these detractors resided in the wealthy Westlands of Vesfalruk.

  Nickus, Chronicler of The King’s Court in Abstention

  ***

  Master Ivar, followed by two other men, came out of the dining hall near the practice yard. They walked over to the students and stood watching them spar. One of them men was Warden Bax. She’d seen him about a few times. He was friends with Ivar and made a point to visit Kyrr from time to time. She knew some of the story from Kyrr about how Bax had brought him to the Hall. The other she was not familiar with. But, the they all seemed to be watching Kyrr closely. Interesting, Fridya thought. After several minutes the exercise ended and the students fell about the yard to rest.

  Fridya saw the men walk towards Kyrr as he sat on the edge of the beaten brown practice yard. Not a blade of grass remained in this place she realized. All plant life had been pummeled into extinction by the countless feet of students’ over the hundreds of years of tramping and stamping on the ground. But for some reason it was still called the ‘yard’. She hurried towards him. She was curious.

  Ivar bellowed, “Kyrr, come with us!”

  Now that they were closer she could see the unidentified man with Master Ivar was clearly a kriger. He was festooned with sword, axes and daggers. He wore leather armor reinforced with metal plates in critical places and he looked familiar. He was older but still hale and strong. She had seen him before at her father’s office in Kimera. He had come to talk to her father a couple times.

  She tried to remember who he was. She wondered what was going on and why did Kyrr need to go with them? Had her father sent this man based on her reports? Kyrr stood up and sent a quick smile her way. Then he ran after the retreating group of men. He glanced back over his shoulder at her once.

  She was starting to have more than just normal feelings for Kyrr. She knew this and realized it would continue to grow. He was closer and dearer to her now than her own brothers. She watched the group as they headed off towards the military section of the fort. That section she knew was out of bounds to students and held lodgings and offices for the senior military officers in charge of the garrison. Why would those men take him there? She had to know.

  She glanced about and saw that no one was paying any attention to her. She told Jokia, an Erling girl and student, that she was going to see the healers about her blisters. Jokia nodded and Fridya hurried across the yard and slipped between some buildings past the armory then doubled back to where she could sneak down a connecting passage to the military side of the High Fort.

  No one was in the passage so she hurried after the men and Kyrr. Even if someone caught her, as the chancellor’s daughter, no one would question her. She could hear the murmur of voices just up ahead. She recognized Ivar’s deep raspy voice. They were talking about tunnels, a secret passage and underground store rooms and barracks. She had heard the rumors that Castle Reave had such facilities in the massive rock beneath the forts.

  She stopped at the corner and cautiously peaked out. It was clear. She turned and hurried down the long arched passageway that connected several buildings. The others were up ahead; she could hear them talking still.

  The covered arcade was gloomy and cluttered with old war memorials and statues. There was an occasional door along either wall that led into offices or rooms for the garrison’s officers. She hoped no one would come out as she slunk along. But there were plenty of shadows, doorways and masonry to duck into or behind to hide.

  The passageway seemed to open into a small courtyard up ahead. Sunlight filled the small enclosure. There was a large iron gate on one wall. There were more statues as well. She could not see around the bend though where Kyrr and the other men must be. She moved as quietly as she could, forward a few more feet, then she ducked behind a statue of some long forgotten king or war captain.

  She could just see the man she was familiar with. Wulfgar! That was his name. He worked for the Guild Halls doing something important she remembered. He was a bear of a man and usually wore a very ruddy complexion. He was as white as a sheet now though. Something had shocked him badly. She needed to get closer.

  ***

  The men stood in the courtyard staring at the boy and the statue while Ivar made a show of finding a key on a large ring of keys. Bax and Wulfgar were stunned. There was no mistaking it now. It was that apparent. They nodded to Ivar and Ivar shrugged, “I guess it is not here. I must have grabbed the wrong ring. We will have to try another time.”

  There was a faint noise from the passageway and Wulfgar turned and yelled, “Come on out little sister. I know you are there.”

  Fridya, wearing a scowl, walked slowly into the courtyard. “She is not that little anymore.” commented Master Ivar.

  She suddenly stopped and a gasp of surprise escaped her lips. She was also now staring at the statue and Kyrr.

  Wulfgar said, “What are you doing here little sister? Did you follow us?”

  “It is uncanny. He looks just like the statue. Is that a statue of who I think it is? There is one in the receiving hall at King’s Hall. I would swear it is the same as this one.” Fridya exclaimed.

  “King’s Hall? What statue? This one?” Kyrr pointed at the statue next to Brandt I’s. “Who is this statue of? You think I resemble this person?” He was filled with excitement. Maybe there was a clue about his identity and his family here. He had given up hope of ever learning anything about his family or his past.

  “Who is this girl?” asked Bax.

  “Gentlemen, let me introduce Fridya, youngest daughter of our Chancellor. She is here to train with the sword at her father’s behest.”

  Wulfgar grunted, “I recognized her in the yard. This complicates things Ivar.”

  Kyrr’s puzzled look went from face to face and then to stony visages of the silent statues standing around them. Finally he swung back to Ivar. He was clearly confused, “What is going on? I thought we were going to see the tunnels and crypts below the castle?”

  “Bax, take Kyrr back to the practice yard.” Ivar said. “Wulfgar and I need to speak with Fridya.”

  “What is it?” protested Kyrr but he allowed Bax to guide him out of the courtyard and back down the passageway.

  “He is the one isn’t he?” marveled Fridya. Her shock was wearing off. She was smart and remembered what her father had told her. She excitedly rushed on, “He is the one from the Prophecy? He is the Boy King? He is the Forgotten Prince? I should have known. No one is that fast. No one is that good without years of training, no one but Brandt’s own blood kin.”

  She was prepared to go on but Ivar cut her off, “Why are you here Fridya? I know you have become friends with Kyrr but I thought it was due to your similar skills and drive, to become Masters. Is there another reason?”

  She paused and tried to contain her enthusiasm. Her thoughts were racing. She must clear her mind and control her emotions. After all she was supposed to be spying for her father.

  “How do you explain the approximately two hundred year difference though? You think he is that old or have generations passed him by somehow? I am an idiot! Of course, the Druids, it has to be due to their powers!” she exclaimed suddenly.

  “Fridya stop!” commanded Ivar. “Answer my question!”

  Wulgar took another tack and said, “Fridya, you can speak freely. I am actually leaving shortly and I will be going to
see your father directly. This is very important news. You understand that? You know we have to be very careful about this information, for several reasons right?”

  “I can’t say anything about what my father asked of me. It is his confidence I would be betraying. Please don’t ask that of me.”

  Ivar sighed, “Well, no, we won’t ask you to do such a thing. Forget about it Fridya, just be very careful with this information. Be careful of what you say and to whom, for his sake and for ours. It is a very dangerous thing now.”

  Wulfgar was very serious when he said, “If this is true you know what will happen. They will come for him. It is foretold. The Emoire will come. It will be war. We must make ready. Even if he is Brandt born anew he is not ready for that. No one is.”

  Ivar said, “I will send for Erika. We will need her to watch over him from now on.”

  “Who is Erika?” Fridya asked.

  “She is the Guild’s best hunter, tracker and assassin killer. She is very skilled. She has caught and killed several Narasists.”

  “Oh!” cried Fridya with shock and surprise evident, “Narasists. Gods, they will come here? For Kyrr?”

  Ivar patiently said, “We don’t know what is going to happen. They may already be looking for him. Our enemies are not without their own powers and spies. Titan, their emperor, is very unpredictable. We have to be prepared for anything. We must get back now. Remember keep this a secret. Tell only your father if you must. Focus on your training and treat Kyrr no differently.”

  “I will go to Kimera and tell some people I can trust what we think is happening.” replied Wulfgar. “I will send word or come back when I can. Ivar, you must send word to your krigers. Call Reave Hall to a Gathering. We must gather them from around the world and bring them home. You will need their strength here! I can also request the Chancellor send a Seeker here to test the boy.”