by Thomas Adams
The things he remembered from his past were vivid flashes, bright and clear to him as he worked but sometimes it was hard to judge the context or the background of the memories. This random recollection of memories and his projection of them were not intentional nor was he even truly aware of what he was doing. At the time he thought nothing of it and afterwards he forgot, for the most part, what he had even done. The fact that the coarse rough metal casting of the sword seemed to soak up his efforts and mental projections was lost to him. He did realize that the steel felt very easy to work with this time. But, he did not wonder why.
Many of his returning memories were focused on the girl, Yfiria. A few of his more prominent recollections were of her dancing or of them dancing together. There were also memories of her singing, reading a book to him, playing the harp and of them working in the garden together. There were memories of them playing and fighting and arguing. And, he experienced memories of her instructing him on courtly manners and etiquette, history, ruling procedures and practices, and the great families of Ellorhim.
He missed her terribly now that he understood their great friendship and had the memories and context of their shared past. Her role in teaching and raising him was still largely obscure but he had some recollection and knew she played a large part in it. The joy of his returning memory was tempered by her recent departure and his inability to share his thoughts and memories with her. Hearing her feelings on their past experiences would have been wonderful.
Children, growing up with each other, experience all of these things. Tears, laughter, anger and joy were all part of living together and maturing. He spent a lot of time thinking about her love for him. He pondered it often. She said she loved him. He did not doubt that. The returning memories clearly indicated their closeness and her devotion. What he could not gauge from these memories was his depth of feeling for her. Nothing so far indicated he loved her. So the question remained. He wondered if he loved her, not as a sister or friend, but as a woman he wanted to wed and bed. The thought and fleeting memory of a promise was ever in his mind. Why didn’t he ask her afore she left what this memory meant?
He knew he was physically attracted to her now. He’d really liked kissing her, holding her hand and being near her and he wished she was near him every day. But, he wasn’t sure if that was love and if he felt that way about her at Talfur. He really didn’t know what love was. His childhood, with the exception of Yfiria apparently, was devoid of the emotion of love. This realization depressed him since she’d had the love of her family and understood it. He didn’t want to hurt her. He knew he had already hurt her and wanted to avoid that if possible. He wished he could love her in return. However, until his memory was fully restored he wasn’t sure what would happen between them. He sometimes wondered if he was even capable of love. What was love?
Her sea green eyes with the flecks of gold in them were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. They were so deep and captivating. He could look into them for hours. He liked talking with her and looking at her but was that love? Or was it something less? He couldn’t talk about this to anyone, especially Fridya. She would not understand and she would be jealous. That would just make things worse. He felt there were unresolved emotions between Fridya and him. He felt caught between two opposing storms with no way out.
He worked hard on the blade whenever he could find the spare time and frequently started anew when it wasn’t quite what he wanted. It took sennights and then the sennights stretched into moons. After a few mistakes and restarts, he had to basically recast the blade from scratch. But he used the same metal over and over, physically shaping it, tempering it and beating it with mental projections. It was a learning process but he made progress. And, the sword, after a while, seemed to have a personality and mind of its own.
This effect, or change in the blade, should have troubled him but it was familiar to him by now and he felt comfortable with it and how it had gradually transformed. Still, he wasn’t entirely sure why it turned out to be a short sword since he preferred to use an axe in his off hand. He sensed it, as if the metal was alive somehow. If he really focused on the sword, he could almost feel it twist and churn with emotion and energy. It was as if it was always moving. At some point he started calling it the danzlehjorr, the dancing sword.
Chapter 20
SwordBreaker
Our history with the Erhand has shown war is never final. It is more often than not simply the conclusion of transitionary periods. Meaning, once a war is over, a kingdom or empire is either moving between a recovery state or preparatory state and back into a war state..
Ortus, First General of Vesfalruk during the Troll Wars
***
“Welcome back Red Band. We lost a couple more from our ranks last year. But, that is to be expected.”
Brandt frowned. He was going to miss Cim and Holder though, the two boys from Red Band they had lost last cycle. Master Ivar actually seemed glad to see them though. Ivar continued his welcome back speech, “We boast that Reave Hall has the hardest training of all the Halls in Ellorhim. We will lose students now and then. It is unavoidable.”
He paused and looked at the students seated around the circle, “That is why we are the best. This year brings new duties and new training regimes. We will focus on tactics and war band level field and command skills. There will be war games, battles, marches and mock campaigns. Another big change this year is guard duty. This year your band will join the other senior bands, you will take up residence in one of the Middle Forts with the other senior students.
“You will be assigned a wall to patrol and defend and your barracks will be in that wall. You will perform guard duty for your wall and rotate through manning the gatehouses. You will learn all about static and defensive garrison duty. You will begin basic instruction with the engineers on how to work, maintain and use the engines, works and other defensive equipment in your fort. It is a big responsibility and a big challenge because you will do all the garrison chores, while still training, at the same level as in your previous years.”
The students all groaned at this revelation. Ivar just smiled and continued.
“Most of your training will be done in your new fort. Two Masters will be assigned to train and instruct you. You will be a band within a larger student companie. This companie will go on maneuvers and sometimes perform mock attacks, raids and other missions. Depending on the scenario, you may be pitted against another student companie or a real King’s Army unit.
“On top of everything else you must move forward with the sword and axe. Most of you have much room to improve. You are all older, bigger and stronger. You should focus on achieving the basic master level forms and pass the initial Runa tests this year.
“This year you will also work with spear, polearm and missile weapons, in a static defense like your fort or in the field as a part of a larger force. And, everyone will be issued a suit of armor, a horse, tack and field kit for maneuvers, exercises and guard duties. You are responsible for your equipment. All kit and animals must be maintained to army standards. You are not children now. You are responsible young men and women. We expect you to act like it.
“Tomorrow you will pick a commander and deputy. Those leaders are in charge for three sennights. Then you pick another set. Everyone will rotate through the command structure for various tasks during their terms. Now, go receive your kit issue from the armory and move to Fort Five. Your Masters will meet you there. Good luck!” Master Ivar turned and strode away.
In the beginning and middle years everyone mastered the basic fighting skills. They learned over countless hours the theories and tactics for fighting, scouting and raiding and in any situation. Now it seemed they would take that skill set and knowledge from a static learning environment, the practice yard, small unit drills and exercises and the classroom, and put it all together in their new fort or in the field against other students and real soldiers in large formations. No one in red band were u
nder any illusions, it would be the busiest and hardest year yet.
***
After a moon cycle of careful plotting, crafty archania and deft maneuvering, Gullvayg was able to fully control Titan and in all but name. It ended up being a very mundane and inglorious affair. It took numerous enchantments and constant vigilance to maintain her archanic control of the man. All of this took effort, effort she should have been using on pushing Lutvar to continue breaching the Void. There was immense pressure on her now. She was basically disobeying her mandate from her master. She had to still ensure Lutvar made progress and the Emorie continued building its war machine for the invasion of Vesfal. These two tasks must be completed soon or Arngrim, the Kûnnabani, would return and discover her ambitious plan to rule the Emorie for herself.
If that happened she would regret it. She could not defeat Arngrim. No one could, except their Master. The entire plan hinged on making steady progress on their tasks and appeasing Arngrim. And, daily she struggled to make the right decisions to move the war effort forward. But, every action taken in this godforsaken place was soon mired in political mischief and bureaucratic bungling on the part of the humans running the empire. Her frustrations mounted as she fought to appease, overwhelm and outmaneuver the government she tried to run. In the end a few well-placed murders helped move some plans forward but it was still not enough.
She had made some progress in raising another legion for the invasion and that unit was now training hard outside the capitol. But, she would need at least four or five more legions in order to begin the assault on Fortress Cinder. She had reviewed Kho and Titan’s invasion plan and found it basically sound but overly confident. In the end it was unrealistic. They had planned on a force of one hundred thousand soldiers, a few thousand engineers and ten thousand slaves and support personnel. She knew that might be sufficient to break through Cinder but it would not be enough to invade and occupy the country. There would not be sufficient forces left to take and hold the other major garrisons and cities.
She would need at least another fifty thousand soldiers but more likely seventy thousand to be truly successful in subjugating the entire country. That realization changed everything. The Emorie would have to really sacrifice to raise that many troops. And, the political will did not exist to make it happen in the current ruler, so, a new ruler and message would be needed.
So, she knew Titan would have to go and she would have to assume direct control. Only then could she focus and use her considerable archanic power and instill the fear needed to grease the gears of progress in Crestia and the Emorie. But, this would bring her into the open and that could have dire consequences. Consequences she could likely not foresee in their entirety nor fully control in their impact. Any major shift in the wrong direction and Arngrim would be on her like stink on shite. She had to be extra cautious now.
***
Brandt grew considerably over the next season. He was already a large lad but the regimen of physical activity, training, working in the forge and the plentiful food contributed greatly to his impressive growth. He was over six feet tall now. He body was lean and fit and corded with muscle. He was very strong. The years of training and the harsh physical work had honed his body into solid muscle. His once sun colored hair developed reddish tints and darkened some but was still mostly blonde. His face had broadened a bit and filled out but the strong square chin, chiseled nose and fine brow was the face of a handsome young man.
The older female students noted his development and his good looks as well. And, he noticed the girls, when in groups, were frequently giggling and smiling as they gazed at him or watched him spar. He ignored them as much as possible. Brandt knew that quite a few young women were interested in him. The braver ones would make advances and let their feelings be known to him. He was always friendly with them but noncommittal.
Usually, Fridya chased the most persistent ones off. It was as if she was trying to mark him and claim him for her own. Brandt didn’t like her behavior in this regard but didn’t know enough of how female hierarchy and society worked to do much about it. He thought Fridya was just jealous of the attention any young woman gave him and he could not understand why. So, he did not encourage any of them and told them he was not interested in a romantic relationship now.
He saw Fridya differently. As far as he was concerned they were just friends. He knew she was a beautiful girl and her form was very attractive but such a relationship just did not resonate with him. Her personality was usually very open, friendly, playful and endearing. She was still a tough no nonsense young lady who he thought of as his best friend. They still had fun sneaking out sometimes for ale, enjoyed sparring together and fought well as a pair. But, he could not give her more than his friendship. He knew someday, it would not be enough. He was entangled enough with Fridya and her silly head games. Besides, his thoughts almost always dwelled on Yfiria. He missed her and wished, more than anything, for her company. He was not sure he could handle a third female in his current emotional state.
Brandt suspected Reave Hall was a very difficult environment for a young woman to train and live in. He knew it was difficult on Fridya. Sometimes, there was something in her eyes that put him off. It was hard to explain, her expression, it was something calculating or devious and he did not understand what it meant or what was behind it. However, the looks and smiles and gestures from the other girls made him wonder. There were plenty of young pretty girls training at the Hall. Most were Erling but some were commoners. He did notice them and if it weren’t for an uncomfortable feeling deep down inside he may have pursued their advances.
But he didn’t. The young women he knew and talked with were instantly compared to another and usually found lacking in some fashion. It wasn’t like he wasn’t interested or attracted to the other girls but at some point in the conversation with a young lady, he would think of Yfiria and compare the girl to her. This usually happened at the most inopportune time and the conversation would sort of trail off at this point. He would then make an apology and an excuse and go do something else.
He always felt guilty about this. Was he shallow or was he just infatuated with the idea of the incomparable Princess of Radnja? By talking to the other girls was he leading them on? It was awkward. Should he even talk to other girls? Was flirting with them wrong? He hated to think of another girl when he felt so raw and emotionally connected to Yfiria. He didn’t understand the social conventions of the situation. He didn’t have the experiences and knowledge other young men had when it came to the dynamics between young people. And, he didn’t know what really lay between Yfiria and himself. She loved him. Did he love her? Was what he felt love? How had he felt about her before he lost his memory?
He did know their connection was strong. He sometimes actually felt as if he could feel her thoughts and emotions. He knew she was thinking of him and was certain she knew he was thinking of her. This communication was not in words but in impressions, sensations and feelings. And, it was not present all the time, only sporadically. It had started after Yfiria took him to his father’s tomb and presented the facts of his heritage to him, and he had accepted it. Since that revelation and his acceptance of his destiny he’d had a breakthrough with his memory and this new tenuous connection with Yfiria had started. His mother’s necklace was also a factor he thought. She was wearing it and somehow it was enhancing their bond and this new communication. He knew the necklace had powerful archania.
He recognized he didn’t know if he would even see Yfiria again. She was a princess and he was the heir to the throne of Vesfalruk but his path and the future was dangerous, unclear and bound to be fraught with peril. A deadly struggle of unknown duration lay ahead for him. And, the Emoire wanted him dead. They’d tried twice that he knew of and they would try again. Yfiria’s father had not left him with a good impression about any future prospects they may have together. Could she be promised to some other foreign prince or king now? She was of age. How long would her fath
er hold off?
All in all it was confusing to him how this worked and, why he felt so strongly about her. He was back to the same question. Did he love her? And, there was a promise hanging over him. What was it? Who had made the promise? He thought himself a person of honor and if he’d made a promise to her, he meant to keep it.
***
Titan and many of his relatives were dead. She’d personally killed several of them. In the end, she had decided she could not achieve her goals with Titan alive, he had to go and she took the Eagle Throne for herself.
She also manipulated Lutvar and his magi into removing several other political obstacles as well. Now she controlled the main legions around Crestia and a slim majority of the senate. And, she was toying with plans and options for the remaining senators and other nobles who resisted her new role as empress.
One unforeseen side effect of her recent ascension as empress was a nasty revolt by several noble families and their private arms men and retainers. Thousands of the lower classes were also sucked into the fighting. Several entire newly formed and outfitted cohorts from the recently created Black Panther Legion ended up in a pitched battle outside the city. It was cohort versus cohort depending on the political or familial ties of their officers. It was a bloodbath.
She had to send in a few cohorts of the Golden Eagle Legion to quell the violence. In the end hundreds were dead and over a thousand wounded. The new Black Panther Legion was combat ineffective and would need to be rebuilt from the ground up. It was another setback and she knew her master would not be happy with her move to seize the throne. There would be consequences if she could not quell the revolt and make significant progress with the campaign on Fortress Cinder and the invasion of Vesfalruk.
