“I had just woken up, you see, after being slammed against a cliff face,” the huge man said. “A couple of my ribs were broke, ya know, just enough to piss me off. Then I see that all of my buddies were gone and there was just this one, gnarly-looking fucker in the middle of them… smiling at me.”
Boram had lost a bit of the humor that had peppered the earlier part of his story and Raegith had completely forgotten his aching feet and the sun-burn on his face in listening to the story. As he turned to walk backward, looking at Boram, he saw that Zakk was nearly on top of the man, he was riding so close. The young soldier was completely spellbound by the man’s story and Hemmil looked agitated by it.
“So I decided to give that big shit something to smile about,” he continued. “I didn’t have but one weapon and that was rage. Pure, white rage. I’ve never been so crazy with it, for I had been kind of a timid kid til then. But when I saw what it had done, when I realized what was in store for me, I lost it. I tore into that thing like a reaper to the crops; punching, kicking, biting! It hammered at me with ungodly strength, but I wouldn’t stop; not until it was a puddle of mush at my feet!”
He reached up and touched his sword hilt. “That’s where I got this from. Bloody bastard was wavin’ it at me when I attacked, but I was too fast to get hit. I was inside his range before it struck, tearing at its face with my fingers. I grabbed its arm and pulled… pulled with all the fear and hate in me! Bones popped, flesh tore and I took that Fate-damned sword arm from him… took it whole! With the demon’s grip still attached, I swung the entire thing into its skull and drove it to the ground, but it still lived. So I flung its dead arm from the massive blade and engaged it again. With a mighty blow, I cleaved the fucker’s head from its body and kicked its still twitching torso into the dirt.”
“Fates,” Zakk whispered, drawing Boram’s attention.
“Don’t worry, lad, you’ll see your share of death when we’re through,” Boram said, wrapping his thick arm around the soldier’s neck and jostling him a bit. “Then, when we’re back in the safety of our own land, the drinks are on me!”
Hemmil reached out the hilt of his warhammer and lifted Boram’s arm off of Zakk, who looked as if he were blushing.
“Wait a moment, though,” Raegith said, still backpedalling in front of the men. “I read in the histories that my father left stocked in the keep that Nogrin was no monster. The enemies of the Stampede Wars were originally thought to be monsters, but it was later discovered that Nogrin was just a very large Saban with an army of men from the Wilderness who dressed in hides and animal bones. He used a rogue Faeir slave to make himself appear monstrous.”
“You know about Nogrin and his Stone Seer slave, but you’re fooled by a Flaming Monkey Demon?” Boram asked with a deep frown. “Yeah, we all later found out that the monsters we were fighting were men in hides. It was no less terrifying!”
“It was a hard lesson for us,” Hemmil said. “Nogrin the Behemoth had no larger than three hundred men and destroyed a third of the soldiers in the Fifth Regiment before King Helfrick ended him. The weapons they used were crude farming tools and only a few of them had military training of any kind, but with that Faeir magic they were able to use fear against us. Fear is both a powerful weapon and debilitating weakness on the battlefield. Remember that.”
The big man rolled his eyes and smirked at Raegith. Raegith returned the smile and turned around to continue following the cart as the day wore on.
The terrain had changed very little in the time that they had been on the road. They purposefully took less travelled routes that circled around settlements and towns, as Hemmil did not want Raegith anywhere near the people of Rellizbix. They had seen a few farms and even a large pasture of livestock owned by a renowned rancher in the area. Raegith had no idea who the man was, but when Tavin pointed out the “Double S” sign above one of the gates, several of them seemed more interested in seeing the animals within. Apparently the guy who owned the heavy, waddling beasts within the fences was a wealthy man, with some influence in the kingdom.
The Central Plains, as Ebriz explained, were exceptional farming and ranching ground and most of the food that was shipped to the larger cities was from these massive, uninterrupted fields with small forests peppered in. Raegith was less interested in where the food came from and more in where the next available shade was.
As they travelled and Hemmil continued to take longer sips of his wine skin, he let it slip that the king was planning on setting him up in a small Saban village along the northern coast. Once that knowledge was out of the bag, Hemmil humored the boy and described what he knew of the coast. He told Raegith of the tropical plants and white sand and of the salty blue water that crashed upon the shores. It was not as heavily populated up there, but it was the furthest away from invading hordes as one could get. Both points were what sold Helfrick on the town of Seawane to turn his son loose upon.
“And before you ask, the King has expressed his strong desire that as few people as possible know what you are,” Hemmil said to Raegith.
“A sober virgin that smells like sun-cooked meat?” Raegith asked. “No, of course we wouldn’t want them to find that out. It could be disastrous for my reputation! I concur, Paladin.”
Raegith got a swift kick from behind by Hemmil, but after a few days the boy had come to expect such things and barely faltered from it. This day he turned around to face the Paladin, however.
“Don’t you worry just a little bit that once you’ve taught me what you know of combat, you might face a bit of recourse from these disciplinary actions?”
Zakk snorted with exasperation and rolled his eyes at the thought of Raegith facing off with the Paladin. Raegith turned to the soldier as he rode next to the stern-faced paladin.
“Oh, you’re first, Giggles,” he said, nodding at the soldier.
Zakk was clearly incensed by the remark, but Hemmil held out his arm for silence and Zakk immediately gained his composure and looked ahead.
“If the day comes, boy, that you can best me in combat, then I won’t care a bit,” the Paladin said. “So long as you don’t shit your pants and die the minute some beast turns at you with a blade and deathly intent, then you can return all the beatings I’ve given you, for I’ve done my job correctly.”
“Well, I won’t make any promises on shitting my pants,” Raegith said, turning around to continue following the cart. “I don’t know what kind of spells they use in the Greimere, so I don’t want to rule anything out.”
The group was not half a day past the Pisces River, which divided the civilized Rellizbix Proper from the untamed Wilderness, before running across one of the three patrolling Regiments.
They had run right up on scouts from the 9th Regiment and were forced to improvise. Hemmil and Ebriz managed to convince the scouts that they were a guard group sent to pick up a prisoner from the Detention Center in Galveronne, far to the southwest. The scouts, however, insisted on taking them back to the Regiment so that they could hitch a ride as far as Big Oak. Hemmil could not find a way out, so they travelled behind the scouts to meet up with the 9th Regiment. There were fires going and the smell of grilled meat was in the air. Their small group had only cooked meat twice since Raegith had joined them and simply ate the dried remains and bread in between, so Raegith was excited about another hot meal.
Hemmil was hailed by an official-looking soldier with similar fancy armor and he instructed Tavin to find them a suitable area to set up camp while he went and handled the official business. The male Faeir, who Raegith learned was named Pyrrhus and did not talk to anyone but Hemmil, came up to the Paladin and whispered something to him before instructing his companion to lead their cart off away from the others and in towards the center of the camp. Raegith watched longingly as the tall, slender female walked away, guiding their cart into the mix of soldiers.
“Hey, where the hell are they going?” he asked.
Hemmil ignored him, but Ebriz was willing to
entertain his question.
“If you haven’t noticed, the Faeir are a bit picky with whom they hang out and since we’re all lowly Commoners, save Hemmil, we’re not all that entitled to converse with such mighty intellects as them.”
“So Hemmil is a Citizen?” Raegith asked. “He took the Passage of Blood, I imagine. Boram, how are you not a Citizen?”
“Cause I don’t suck enough cock,” the big Saban replied, waving him off.
“They’re most likely moving off to camp with the others of their kind among the Regiment,” Tavin said, motioning for them to keep their voices low. “It’s actually a smart move. It would raise too much suspicion if they stayed with us in such an environment. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
“There are others here? How do you know?” Raegith asked, looking around.
“Every regiment has mages from the College,” Ebriz explained. “They’re all of officer rank.”
“Yeah, and they act like royalty, the pricks,” Boram said. “No offense, Raegith.”
Raegith rolled his eyes at the big man as Ebriz continued.
“I doubt we’ll see much of them until we can sneak away from this group,” Tavin said. “Let’s get set up.”
“Hell yeah,” Boram affirmed. “Let’s get this damn tent up so I can relax and you can sneak out and grab us some grub.”
“Until you can show me you might survive without one, a weapon is useless to you,” Hemmil huffed at a defeated and exhausted Raegith after the boy asked about weapons training. “You might find yourself in battle without a weapon someday and by my labor you’ll still be able to kill. Lose your hands in battle and by my labor you’ll be able to run far enough away to die in peace.”
Raegith had spent the first week with the 9th Regiment, or Summer Guard as they were called, never remembering how he got to bed. For the time being, they were stuck travelling with the Regiment, so Hemmil thought they should at least take advantage of the free time afforded them. Each morning he would go out into a field with Hemmil and Zakk, performing his exercises and running in big circles for what seemed like hours. Then he would train in hand-to-hand combat with either Hemmil or Zakk. Both men refused to take off their armor and Raegith was given nothing but some thick, leather gloves to save his fists from the beating they took every time he missed a blow to the unarmored areas of his opponents. Hemmil seemed to take it easy on him for the most part, but Zakk was merciless with his attacks and Raegith never made it to sun down before being knocked unconscious by the zealous fighter.
In the morning and sometimes during the night, Raegith would wake on his cot, feeling a slight twinge of soreness, but missing all the signs of the previous day’s beatings and feeling clean. He would then start out the new day with his exercises which led into a daylong ass-beating.
On the fourth or fifth day the camp busied itself with packing up and moving away from the sparring session, as the three men stayed behind to continue training. When Raegith woke up the next day, he was in the new camp that had been set up that day while he was in dreamland. He did not see Tavin or Boram or Ebriz during this time and he certainly did not see the Faeir woman. All he saw was Hemmil and Zakk, kicking the shit out of him every day until his eyes stopped opening. By the second week, Raegith was getting tired of the schedule.
“So what’s the plan, then?” the battered prince asked. “Am I to be some new type of soldier? One that does not need a weapon? Will I grow a set of steel claws from wounds on my knuckles and just tear into men with those? Okay, I meant that as a joke, but that actually sounds fantastic!”
“Quit mouthing off!” Hemmil yelled, stepping in to blast him with an array of punches. Raegith went on the defensive and fended them off with practiced speed. “I am a Paladin of Rellizbix and your mentor. Your father was a Paladin, as was your grandfather, all the way back to Victus Caelum, the father of all Paladins. You’ll train to be a Paladin, because that is what royalty train as, despite your weakened blood.”
“Weakened blood, is it?” Raegith said, leaping back to open the gap between him and the man.
“Yes, boy, weakened blood!” Hemmil said, stopping his attack. He looked as if some inner rage, or whatever kept the perpetual frown on his face, had finally boiled to the surface. “The Caelum bloodline has been the defining lineage of our entire nation for centuries and during such time it has always remained untainted. Yours is not the blood of such an extraordinary line. It is infected with common Twileen, as if there were any other kind, and a diseased whore at that! It is not the pure line of kings; it is not the blood of a true Prince!”
“I laugh at my royal bloodline!” Raegith retorted. “For all Helfrick’s blustering boasts and prodigious purity, his will and honor were easily destroyed by the mere hint of my mother’s ass against a thin dress! It seems that if she were able to topple a king, then it might be the Saban blood that dilutes me!”
“You will not speak of the king that way, boy!”
“I doubt he can hear me from here,” Raegith said.
Hemmil closed the gap between them in an instant and snatched the prince up by his collar, pulling his face close.
“You will repent for the words you have spoken,” the man growled. “On… your…knees!”
Before Hemmil could force him to the ground, Raegith threw his head into the man’s face. It stunned the Paladin, but not enough for his grip to release and in the next instant Hemmil was swinging him around and tossing him to the ground.
Raegith was not done with the man, however. His blood was heated now. He righted himself against the ground and lined himself up towards Hemmil.
“I’m done sullying my hands with unworthy filth such as you. Zakk,” Hemmil said, blood flowing freely from his nose, “finish this!”
Something in Raegith changed that morning. His words, which had been his one and only weapon thus far, failed him in that instant. As he saw the Paladin send his squire in to finish what he had clearly started, Raegith’s wit faltered in his rage and only a beastly snarl escaped. Neither wit nor sarcasm would give the prince satisfaction at that moment. No, he would need something else; a dormant beast that he had not fed in many years stirred within him.
Zakk came for him, quickly, intending to wrap up his training early by his master’s command, but if Raegith was to be denied the satisfaction of hurting Hemmil, then Zakk would be denied the approval he desperately sought.
Raegith turned to meet Zakk and adjusted his stance. A new mind had taken over and he was suddenly putting all of his beatings to use in a natural way. He was focused. He remembered how quickly the boy attacked, using his hand speed to overwhelm and disarm him before landing a knockout blow. Zakk was shorter than Raegith, however, and thus his hand speed was reliant on getting inside the taller man’s reach. Raegith braced himself and brought his back heel up off the ground, slightly.
Throwing a long punch out at Zakk, the boy easily deflected it and rushed in, but Raegith had gained some speed as well and dropped back away from Zakk as the attack commenced. Zakk pushed forward, intent upon closing with the retreating prince and Raegith stopped him with a swift sidekick to the midsection.
The kick was not extremely powerful, but it was enough to stop the forward motion of the soldier for a moment. The brief stop in momentum was enough for Raegith. He reached out with another far-reaching jab and nearly connected with Zakk’s face before the boy parried, but Raegith was not looking to connect with the punch. Instead, he switched his hips and kicked out into Zakk’s midsection with his back leg and with much more power.
Zakk took a step back and sucked air. Now came the hands. Raegith responded with the same flurry of punches that Zakk utilized, slapping aside his attempts at blocking and moving in with blows that connected. Zakk’s experience kicked in and he guarded, but then Raegith was opening the range and kicking again. To the midsection; a sidekick to the knee; another to the midsection. Raegith could kick Zakk’s armor with force, where his punches could not hit without ca
using himself injury. The soldier had to guard against more than strikes at his face and he was not ready for it. The kick to his knee popped something and suddenly the soldier could not step correctly. Then Raegith growled at him, all primal and burning with fury.
Zakk was off guard and injured. His hands couldn’t keep up and suddenly a handful of his hair was locked in the lunatic prince’s grip, yanking his head sideways. An elbow to the face rocked him. Another elbow caught him in the jaw. He cried out, but was immediately silenced by a blow from under his chin that nearly took his tongue off. He was leaning far backwards and his feet were in the air. The bastard prince had caught him with the same uppercut that he used all the time.
As Zakk hit the ground, Raegith dropped on top of him, choking the private with one hand and slamming him in the face with the other fist.
“Enough Raegith!” Hemmil yelled, coming across the field to him.
“Yes!” Raegith snarled, turning towards his true prey. “Come get some! I’m ready!”
“Stop this now! We’re done! Training is over!”
“Nothing is over!” Raegith roared.
“I see it well enough, prince,” Hemmil said, approaching guardedly. “I see what a man of destiny can do once he’s finished holding back! It’s about time you got your head in the fight, Raegith.”
“What game is this?” Raegith asked.
“No games, my prince,” Hemmil said. “Just a little spark to ignite that fire in you, is all this is.”
“All that shit about my Twileen blood, then?” Raegith asked, confused but refusing to give up his offensive stance.
“Rubbish,” Hemmil said. “You’re a prince, Raegith. The blood of Throm Caelum runs through your body; nothing can taint that! You just needed a push to remove your head from your ass.”
“Well, I’d say it was a success,” Raegith said, relaxing at looking at Zakk lying unconscious on the ground behind him. “Looks like your boy paid the price for your push more than you did, though.”
Beyond the Hell Cliffs Page 5
