by James Wolf
‘Aye.’ Forgrun said, as he glared at Baek. ‘He’s not be all right in ye head,’ Forgrun cocked his head at Baek. ‘We do just come from Borleon,’ Forgrun said to the whole common room, ‘and that nasty place do ‘ave a way ter mess with yer mind. Yhee see, ye ghosts got ter me friend Baek ‘ere.’ Forgrun looked at Baek, and Taem could just tell the Rhungar was smirking beneath his great russet beard.
Baek glared daggers at Forgrun.
‘Pay him no heed,’ Taem said to Gomas. ‘It has been a long road, and we had to fight for our lives against the Krun inside Borleon. That can affect a man.’
Forgrun drew a circle around Baek’s temple with his finger, which caused the Aborle to give the Rhungar an ever blacker look. Bodran hid his laughter behind his massive fist.
‘I’ve heard the Borleon ghosts can do that,’ Gomas said, as he looked at Baek with pity. ‘Please make sure to keep your troubled friend under control, and go and take a seat. I will have some food brought to you, and I’ll have your packs put in your room.’
‘Ssshh, my crazy friend,’ Forgrun said to Baek, as he led him over to an empty table. Come take a seat, an’ be restin’ yhee troubled mind.’ Forgrun had a broad grin spreading over his face.
Baek just glowered at the Rhungar, as Forgrun led him – like he were a lost old man – over to a free seat.
Taem did not like the feel of this place. All happiness had been drained from these people long ago, and they were all so full of fear. He was sure to keep his hand close to his sword hilt, and his eyes wide open, as he followed his companions over to their table.
They ate a hearty meal of pot-roasted chicken and vegetables, throughout which they were watched with suspicion. No doubt the arrival of Rhungars was an extraordinary occurrence, but now Baek had claimed to come from the haunted forest as well, they were the strangest group of travellers these common folk had ever seen. The unnerving silence of the other patrons was so uncomfortable that Taem did not want to speak. Baek noticed it too, but Forgrun seemed oblivious as he boomed on about how good it was to finally get some proper food down him after days on the road.
With the meal finished, Taem left his friends in their comfy seats. The Aborle sat reading a book of the innkeeper’s, titled The History of Aritas, and the Rhungars were sampling the local ales – which, of course, could not match Rhungari beer in taste or strength.
Taem decided to go for a walk around the village, to work off some of the meal, and scout the town’s layout. His sword was strapped by his side, and – as he stepped outside and pulled the hood up to close out the chill wind – he was glad he had taken his cloak from the stand. The hour was late, but the town was quieter than it should have been. Taem felt the unease of the place as he noticed how window-shutters were bolted closed and doors were barred. This was not a happy community. Even in their own homes the people here did not feel safe.
Few lights were on in the houses Taem passed, and many of the dwellings were uninhabited. He even saw an inn that was boarded up and shut down. The only small signs of activity were centred on the town square and the inns there, the rest of Gulren was a desolate ghost town. As the wind whistled Taem shivered – but not with the cold, it was the oppressive atmosphere. It all felt so… wrong.
As Taem returned to the square from down a small unlit lane, he could see by the lamplight there was a disturbance occurring. Taem melded into the shadows. A cart burdened with a huge wooden cage was parked outside the town hall. Ten men with black scarves tied round their faces lurked around the cart, whilst a further half a dozen were forcing their way into one of the square’s grander residences. Taem’s eyes narrowed in anger as he spied the bandits.
Townspeople had milled out of the Hand and Crown and the opposite Golden Sceptre Inn. A few of the gathered people spoke in low whispers as the masked men were cruelly dragging a family from the ransacked house.
‘What is the m-m-meaning of this?’ Said a nervous voice from the crowd.
‘This family have broken the King’s Law,’ Remar said, as he emerged from the shadows of the town hall.
Taem had loathed Remar from the first instant he had set eyes on him. And now this serpent was smirking as his henchmen dragged a family from their home! These bandits were men with no honour, but they had cruelty and malice in abundance.
‘Falman and his family have sent word to the outside for help,’ Remar said to the crowd, ‘and they were harbouring the traitor Dane Ruddle! They have also been feeding Mrs Ruddle and her children – outcasts banished by your King! This family of lawbreakers will live in toil at Graveldeep Mine.’
‘They were starving!’ shouted a rounded middle-aged man with a handle bar moustache and ginger hair, as he was manhandled into the cage by two masked bandits.
Taem assumed this was Falman.
‘They are just children!’ Falman fought against the bandits. ‘We couldn’t just let them die!’
‘Silence!’ Remar snarled. ‘The King’s word is law! Teach him a lesson,’ Remar hissed to his henchmen.
A woman, two teenage girls and three younger children all struggled as they were loaded into the wagon by the bandit henchmen, as Falman was hauled back out. A bandit slapped one of the girls round the face, knocking her to the floor.
‘String him up,’ Remar gestured to his bandit subordinates.
‘No, please don’t!’ Falman tried to fight them off as he was dragged to the statue in the centre of the square. ‘No! I don’t deserve this! I didn’t–’
One of the bandits cracked Falman in the head and he slumped. The square was silent, as the rest of the townsfolk watched on in horror.
The children locked in the cage began to cry as their father was lashed to the statue with thick rope. Taem could see the children’s eyes, helpless and pleading, peeking through the cage at the people in the square. Was no one going to help them? They could not understand. The mother and sisters tried to shield the younger children’s eyes. Taem could see this family was in pain and full of fear, and he realised he could stand by no longer. A fire grew in Taem’s heart. It was his duty to defend the helpless. Taem knew there was only one way to deal with someone like Remar, and he found his hand was resting on Estellarum’s hilt.
But Taem was also afraid. His heart raced. Taem’s whole body tingled in apprehension. And, to his disappointment, he realised he was shaking. Taem took in a deep, deep breath as he tried to steady himself. The enemy were many, and he was alone. He knew he would die if he tried to take them on. No one else was going to do anything, so was it madness to even think of doing something? Should he wait until he had more back up? When the true King’s soldiers arrived, that would be the time to act – surely it would be safer to wait until then? Why should he risk his life now?
But then Logan’s words rang through Taem’s head, Have the courage to uphold what is right, regardless of the consequences. Taem steeled himself. He thought of The Code – of honour, of valour and of virtue – and his mind was certain.
A dazed Falman was tied to the statue, blood oozing from his face, as Remar stalked up to him, ‘Let this be an example to all who plot against the King.’ Remar smirked to the terrified crowd of townsman as he pulled out a knife.
‘No!’ Many watchers gasped.
‘Silence!’ Remar screamed. ‘This is the penalty for talking treason! Your family belongs to me now! Your women are mine, and your children go to the mines! Cut out the traitor’s tongue,’ Remar passed the knife to one of the other leering bandits.
The bandit with the knife brought the blade up to Falman’s neck, and Taem saw the grin on the bandit’s face as Falman’s eyes shot wide. Many townspeople turned away, unable to watch.
‘Hold!’ Taem said, as he made his way out from the shadows, into the centre of the square. Taem had no idea what he was doing, or what was going to happen. He just knew that sometimes you should not even have to question why, you just had to do the right thing.
All eyes – bandit and townspeople alike – t
urned to gawk at Taem.
Taem’s pulse raced under those hundreds of stares, but he managed to force himself to remain outwardly calm – even though he was trembling on the inside.
‘Who questions the law of our King?’ Remar said furiously, as he lingered close to the prison wagon and his scowling henchmen. ‘And from the hiding of a hood?’
Taem slowly lowered his hood to reveal his fierce blue eyes, but kept the cloak close around his body, concealing his sword.
‘You are a criminal, a thug and a coward.’ Taem said with a calmness he did not feel. ‘Let them go, now!’
People in the crowd gasped.
‘Foolish traveller,’ Remar sneered, ‘you have no idea! Look around you! You’re surrounded, outnumbered–’
‘I’m not finished!’ Taem shouted. ‘Leave now, never return, and you can keep your pathetic lives. Stay, and I will destroy every one of you.’
Remar’s rage seethed over, his face became a mask of fury, ‘I want his heart ripped out!’
The bandit who had been about to knife Falman, swept out a vicious cleaver and hurtled at Taem, brandishing the machete high overhead. Taem remained still, his arms hidden beneath his cloak. Relax, he told himself. Wait. But it took all of Taem’s will to force himself not to move.
The thug came charging at Taem. But still Taem did not flinch – did not twitch a single muscle. The bandit came hurtling on and chopped down with his machete, towards Taem’s head. At the last moment Taem stepped to his left. The enemy’s machete went sailing past his head, missing by mere inches. As he slipped aside, Taem drew his blade from its sheathed position on his hip, and sliced into the thug’s stomach. One smooth movement. The bandit dropped to the floor, dead.
Everyone looked pole-axed, not least of all the other bandits around the cart. Taem’s move had been impossibly fast. The townspeople gaped, questioning what their eyes had just seen, many with jaws dropped in disbelief.
Taem stared down at the dead man. Glazed lifeless eyes glared back at him. Taem looked up and focused on his sword, saw how the beauty of the Starmetal blade was tainted with blood. It hit Taem that he had just killed a man. His life would be changed forever from this night on. That made him feel cold. Empty. But only for a moment. Taem told himself he had killed in self-defence, and he had killed because he was standing up for what was good and right and true.
Taem smoothly brought his blade up, forming the guard position between him and the bandits. Taem took in a deep breath, and he glowered at the enemies surrounding him. He knew he was about to die, but he would do so fighting – with honour and valour in his heart. He would not concede to the enemy the advantage of seeing his fear. And, now Taem had killed one of them, he could see the rest of the bandits were now eying him with fear.
‘Leave now,’ Taem pointed his sword at the bandits, ‘or you will never see another dawn.’
‘So, you are a swordsman,’ Remar sneered at Taem, ‘but the greatest swordsman in the world – which you boy are not – could not face twenty men alone, and live.’
‘Not alone,’ Baek emerged from the crowd outside the Hand and Crown, carrying his bow.
Taem felt his heart leap as he heard his friend’s voice.
The townspeople parted to let the Aborle make his way to stand alongside Taem.
The Rhungars were right behind Baek, carrying hulking war axes.
‘Yer goin’ ter taste Rhungari steel,’ Forgrun growled. ‘Then foul mouth,’ he thrust his axe at Remar, ‘I be goin’ ter silence thy treacherous lyin’ tongue.’
As if the bulk of an angry Forgrun was not intimidating enough, Bodran was following close behind with an axe in each hand. The Brother of Gromm had removed his black shirt to reveal a muscular torso covered in swirling white tribal tattoos. Bodran emanated menace, with a stare that was death itself.
To see how the bandits looked at the Rhungars in terror, almost brought a smile to Taem’s face. Suddenly – now he was no longer alone – Taem felt very powerful indeed.
As the townspeople murmured between themselves with a sliver of new hope, the Aborle and the Rhungars took up position either side of Taem. There was no longer an arrogance about Remar’s appearance. He glanced anxiously at the Rhungars – both were in such a psyched up state that they were baring their teeth and growling.
‘Four against twenty,’ Remar said hesitantly, ‘the odds are still against you.’
‘I assure you,’ Taem said – and he himself was surprised at how strong his voice sounded – ‘the odds are well in our favour. If you run away now, you can still live.’
‘And I offer you, boy,’ Remar spat, ‘a life as my slave! Or if you’re lucky, death.’
With Remar’s yell, the bandits drew their weapons and advanced towards the companions.
As smooth as silk, Baek drew and loosed an arrow from his silver-yew bow. A bandit crumpled over, wincing at the arrow embedded in his stomach, as he slumped to the white flagstones. Forgrun could barely contain his built up aggression so, with a nod from Taem, the Rhungar let out a mighty war cry and charged at the bandits. Taem ran with Forgrun, and Bodran sprinted in front, so keen was he for a noble death. By the time Taem and the Rhungars reached the enemy, another bandit had fallen with an Aborle arrow through his throat. Forgrun’s axe thudded into a bandit chest. The force of the weighty weapon’s blow hurled the dead brigand straight to the paving slabs. A second opponent swung at the Rhungar horizontally. Forgrun’s axe smashed into the bandit’s heavy sword swing. The bandit hollered in pain, as his sword flew from his grasp. Forgrun swung his axe back, driving his axe-spike through the bandit’s neck.
Taem obliterated his first enemy with a downward strike, through the skull. No hesitation. He glided to the side, dodging an enemy swing. Taem dropped a bandit with a diagonal slash, bottom right to top left. He brought his blade back across his body, blocking to his right, as a third enemy rushed in to attack him with a broadsword. That was close, Taem thought. He had to move faster! Their swords clashed, and on Taem’s follow up movement the bandit fell clutching his ruptured stomach.
Bodran run through the bandits, hacking and smashing. With a hunger for death, and a ferocity Taem had never seen. Bodran was not a skilled warrior, but his savage rage took the terrified bandits by surprise. The Brother of Gromm felled three bandits with his whirlwind of axes.
Baek had shot another foe before battle was joined and, as he now ran into close combat range, the Aborle drew his broadsword. He spun his bow, with its steel caps on either end, whipping it into a bandit’s face, stunning him. A moment later the Aborle thrust his broadsword into the bandit’s side.
But Baek could not pull his sword out from the dying foe, and he had to defend himself against new adversaries! Baek abandoned his sword, leaving it embedded in the bandit’s body. He swivelled as two lumbering brigands charged him. Lashing out with his bow, Baek rapped one bandit across the knuckles. The thug whimpered in pain, dropping his cudgel. The Aborle snapped round to face the second adversary. He was too close! Baek just managed to evade the swing of the bandit’s cutlass, jumping to the side. As the Aborle moved to dodge the second enemy, the other brigand jumped on him from behind. The bandit grabbed hold of Baek, and squeezed the Aborle’s chest in a massive bear hug. Baek gasped as the crushing arms constricted. He convulsed and fought, frantic and breathless, but could not break free.
‘Don’t forget to breath, you dandy!’ The oaf snarled, as Baek wormed in his grasp. ‘You broke my hand – so I’m gonna break yer chest!’
Baek squirmed and kicked out as he choked for air. The Aborle’s hands spasmed, and he dropped his bow as he began to black out. The cutlass-armed bandit moved in, bringing his sword up to the Aborle’s neck.
Suddenly Forgrun was there. The Rhungar’s massive bulk shoulder-barged into the cutlass-armed bandit, sending him sprawling to the ground. The downed bandit looked as if he had been hit by a mine cart. Baek, who was still being squeezed from behind, stamped down on his other attacker�
�s foot with the last of his strength. The bandit winched in pain, and his grip loosened. The lapse allowed Baek to break free of the enemy’s grasp. As Baek struggled free he ducked, and the Rhungar came in and cracked the bandit square on the chin with a mighty punch. The bandit’s eyes shot blank and wide as he tumbled back.
Like lightning, Taem threw out one of the most powerful techniques of The Way of the Sword. Estellarum followed a full clockwise circle around Taem’s body and over his head, to build up momentum. The mighty strike cleaved right through a bandit.
The handful of remaining bandits fled the scene, overwhelmed by their opponents. Taem could not see Remar anywhere. The bandit leader must have slipped off into the shadows once he realised the fight was going against him.
A hope filled cheer erupted from the crowd as the bandits ran for their lives. Baek picked up his bow and notched an arrow, covering the two grounded bandits. One was unconscious, and the other lay hunched up clutching his chest and struggling to breathe, both had been taken out by Forgrun. The Aborle glanced to Taem, looking for the go-ahead. Taem knew Baek wanted to shoot the bandits, and perhaps they even deserved to die, but the Sodan shook his head.
Baek relaxed the tension on his bow, but kept his arrowhead fixed on the enemies, until townsmen came to take the prisoners away to get locked up in the Sheriffs’ Office.
Townspeople rushed to untie Falman and break his family out of the back of the caged wagon, as Forgrun retrieved the Aborle’s broadsword, wiped it clean of blood, and handed it back to Baek.
Bodran was muttering and snorting in anger. He had failed to meet his death tonight.
‘Me debt ter yhee be settled, me Aborle friend.’ The Rhungar bowed.
‘Thank you, Forgrun Krojan,’ Baek slid his sword back into its sheath, ‘son of Dugan, of clan Ironstone. You are a Rhungar of your word,’ the Aborle lowered his head in respect.
Taem paused to gather his breath and his thoughts. He saw the dead bodies that now littered the town square. He looked from the dead bandits to the blood on his forearms and it made him feel cold. He had killed men. He had taken life. And it had been easy. Too easy. These were evil men – but they were still men. Nevertheless, they had attacked him, and he had acted for good. They had died in combat. And surely, because they were trying to kill him, he was justified in killing them? Taem looked to the Sodan Code. He asked himself, had he acted with honour? Yes. Had he fought with valour? Yes. Had virtue been in his heart? Yes.
