“How could you have been party to something like that?” Darian asked, almost in disbelief.
“I wasn't,” Tealor replied, shaking his head. “Lord Bernoth was hanged by another group of collectors. I certainly felt sorry for the old man, but at the time, I felt he had broken his oaths. He had sworn to serve his king and then refused to do so over a few pieces of stamped metal. I wouldn't have had him hanged, but I certainly felt like he needed to be punished. It was obvious that the kingdom needed all the gold it could muster. Shortly after his execution, I found out just what it was for.
“The south-west border of Mikral is hemmed in by wilderness. A large group of bandits had moved into the area and began to prey on the people. They were led by a man who called himself Lord Demellas. The band would arrive like locust, strip the land of all it had and then move on. Within days of their arrival, two villages had been razed, and another put to the sword. Two hundred men were assembled to put a stop to this small army of villains. I was one of those men. We marched behind Lord Serras and, within a week, we reached our destination.
“I was more than ready to put an end to the men who had cost so many innocents both their homes and their lives. Our forces met in a field outside the village of Hamrath, which had been sacked by the rogues just days before. I planned to send as many of the villains as I could to the halls of Kaldor. However, before the battle began, our commander rode out to speak to the so-called Lord Demellas. In a few moments, they had come to an agreement. They were paid a fortune in gold and followed us back to the capital under the banner of the king. Their entire band had joined the Mikralian army!”
“So, King Palnar actually hired a group of criminals to serve him?”
“He did,” Tealor nodded. “Still, as furious as it made me, there seemed to be some wisdom in it. No one could deny that it stopped the band from burning homes and killing civilians. As they had become his soldiers, the king could keep an eye on them; if they didn't obey the law, it would be a simple matter to have any trouble makers executed. I didn't like the method, but I couldn't deny its effectiveness.
“Even so, my discontent didn't end there. Within months of accepting the service of these murderers, I found that the king was preparing to attack the kingdom of Renfaer to the south. More and more mercenaries swelled our ranks and, once again, Lord Valrak offered his services to king Palnar. That was where the tax money was going. There was to be another conquest. More homes would be burned and families scattered. I wasn't willing to do to some other kingdom what had been done to Solarin. So, I resigned from the army; which was no simple task at the time.”
“You couldn't just leave?” The Telian asked.
At this question, the large warrior laughed aloud.
“No, I couldn't,” Tealor said, a grim smile on his face. “Imagine that a soldier could leave the ranks just because a war was brewing. No. If you wanted out, you had to buy your freedom. There's a special tax for those who want to be released from their duties. It cost me everything I'd saved over my two years of service, but I paid it and resigned my post. I returned home only to find Sarena gone. Her connection to the arcane had been discovered and she had been sent to an academy to be trained as a sorceress serving in the Mikralian army. She had decided to follow me and joined before she knew I had left.
“There was only one thing to do. I had to earn the money to buy her way out, as well as pay for her training. For two years, I lived in the north-eastern mountains as a hunter. I saved every coin and, when I returned, I sold everything I had: my weapons, my armor, even my horse and paid off her debt. Fortunately, she had just completed her training by the time I returned. I bought her freedom and, shortly after that, we were wed.”
“I see,” Darian nodded. “And then you became mercenaries?”
“Well, yes, eventually,” Tealor replied. “For a time, I actually went back to farming. But somehow, things had changed; I'm not sure I'll ever be happy working the land again. After a short time, we saved enough money to get the equipment we needed. After that, we started taking jobs hunting criminals or disposing of more dangerous beasts. I still want to help and serve the people of this land, but a man has to make a living. I mean; I'm very happy that we were able to rescue Gwendolyn, but...”
Tealor suddenly stopped speaking as the Neres Bridge came into view. On the far side, two sentries stood guard with spears in hand. As soon as the party was spotted, one of them ran into the distance.
“I see the bridge is back under guard,” the large warrior observed.
“Well, shouldn't it be?” Darian asked.
“Yes,” Tealor nodded. “But, I wonder where that sentry went.”
As the party approached, the guard returned followed by ten horsemen. One of these rode a short distance ahead of the others and waited in silence near the far end of the bridge. The Mikralian banner waved from the top of his uplifted spear.
“I am Sir Ungar, captain of these men and servant of Lord Kilmer,” the soldier said as soon as the band had crossed the bridge.
“Very glad to meet you,” Tealor said with a slight nod, pulling his horse to a stop. “How can I be of service?”
“You are Tealor?” the captain asked.
“I am,” was the warrior's simple reply.
“That girl is Gwendolyn, daughter of Faelor?” Captain Ungar asked, pointing at the young maiden.
“She is.”
“Then, you succeeded!” the captain replied excitedly. “Excellent! I've been charged by Lord Kilmer to escort the girl back to her father. I've also been authorized to guarantee your reward.”
“Tell your lord that we thank him,” Tealor nodded. “But, we'll see the girl safely home.”
“My instructions are explicit,” Captain Ungar said, shaking his head. “We are to escort her without fail.”
“Very well,” Tealor said, kicking his horse into motion. “You can follow us.”
“I don't think you understand,” the soldier replied, moving his mount to block the large warrior, “We're to escort her alone. Once she's safely with her family, you can apply to Lord Kilmer for your reward.”
“And beg for what we've earned?” Tealor laughed. “No. I told the girl's father that I'd return her and I will.”
“That is not Lord Kilmer's wish,” the captain said, raising his voice slightly.
“Then, no doubt, he'll be disappointed,” Tealor replied.
“I warn you, I will only accept so much insolence from peasants such as yourselves!” Captain Ungar exclaimed. “Release the girl to me now!”
“If I refuse?” Tealor grinned.
“That would be most unwise,” the captain replied lowering his spear slightly.
As he did so, his men prepared their weapons; drawing swords and lowering lances. Darian heard soft chanting beside him and turned to see Sarena reaching out to touch him gently on the shoulder.
“I'm known for many things,” the warrior said, looking squarely in the captain's face. “Wisdom's not one of them.”
“Take the girl! Kill the others!” the captain yelled.
In an instant, Tealor spurred his horse into a gallop and snatched the captain's spear from his uplifted hand as he passed. The hooves of his prodigious animal thundered across the ground as he leveled the weapon at of one of his adversaries. The Mikralian soldiers were surprised by the warrior's sudden charge and before they could react, he was upon them. The mercenary's target was the unfortunate soldier hemming in the edge of the enemy's line. The spear in his hand struck the unhappy man like a thunderbolt. The shaft of the weapon shattered in Tealor's powerful fist, and the first victim of the conflict was knocked from the saddle, a bloody Mikralian banner waving from his shoulder.
Tealor could just have easily killed his foe – the heart is as good a target as the shoulder – but there was no need. He, too had been a solider and followed orders at the risk of his life. Perhaps these men truly were his enemies but, perhaps they were only faithful servants to a petty lord
who wanted a reward that was not his own. Whatever the case, the conflict had to be brought to an end as quickly as possible. Although his injured opponent would certainly live to tell the tale, it was just as certain that, for him, the battle was over.
Sarena vanished as Ian began to play an ancient battle hymn, both deep and powerful. The sorceress' apparently rider-less horse trampled one of the two unmounted sentries – leaving him senseless on the ground – as it flew into the open field. These Mikralians were battle hardened soldiers, however, and recovered from this sudden onslaught before their fallen comrade had hit the ground.
In unison, they set their lances and spurred their mounts into motion. Three broke away from the line to pursue Tealor as he rode into an open area of the field beyond, readying both sword and shield. The captain drew his own blade and turned to pursue the foe that had just disarmed him. Two more of the pack rode in pursuit of the rider-less horse. It wasn't the first time they had seen the arcane power used in battle and they intended to put a speedy end to the potentially deadly sorceress. One of the band charged the gallant young knight who still sat empty handed.
Darian suddenly realized a rider was bearing down on him, a spear leveled at his chest. Instinctively, he reached for his shield before remembering he had failed to have it repaired while in the village. He seized it by the edges and jerked it from its fastenings, breaking the thin leather cord that bound it to his saddle. Holding it up with both hands, he placed it between himself and the outstretched weapon of his foe. The lance struck the shield with a force that would have knocked a man of lesser skill from the saddle. However, the knight absorbed the shock and kept his seat, though pain shot through his arms like fire. While his attacker turned, preparing once again to charge the young knight, another attacker lashed out at the bold Telian from below. A spear was thrust up behind his shield and struck his armor near the joint between his chest and shoulder. He looked down to see the other sentry glaring up at him. He cast his shield at the upturned face of his enemy before drawing his own sword.
The three soldiers pursing Tealor fanned out, hoping to flank him, while the outraged captain pushed his mount onward directly behind his impressive foe. Two more of the band positioned themselves for a direct charge at the brave Telian who stood alone between them and the edge of the bridge. Seeing their companion in such a dangerous position, the ranger and the rogue let fly their deadly shafts. With a cry of agony, one of Darian's attackers fell from the saddle, both an arrow and bolt lodged within his body.
Tealor wheeled his steed around to face his pursuing foe. Sword in hand, he charged the Mikralian captain and passed between two of his enemies before they had time to turn their galloping beasts. The captain and the mercenary flew toward one another, the blades in their uplifted hands glinting in the morning sun. The warrior struck with all his strength, but his blade was met by that of his enemy and the clash and spark of steel on steel were the only rewards for his effort. Both the captain and the mercenary again turned their mounts to face one another. Tealor bore down on his foe in a flurry of blows that the captain, skilled as he was, could not hope to endlessly evade. However, whereas the warrior fought alone, the captain's men were quickly riding to his aid. With the utmost skill, the mercenary maneuvered his horse and kept the captain between himself and his other enemies. Although he could not hope to prevent their attack, he could at least deny them a direct assault.
The two riders that pursued the sorceress's mare flew wildly behind the beast waiting for an opportunity to strike and wary of the fact that, at any moment, the arcane power might lash out in her defense. Her noble animal slowed only a moment in its flight, but it gave her enemies the opportunity they sought. Both urged their steeds on with the all the speed that shout and spur could muster. One of the two flew out in the lead, his deadly weapon aimed at the space any rider was sure to occupy. In a flash, he had reached his target and the spear passed through its very center without the least resistance. The horse of pursuer and pursued collided and, for a moment, there was only confusion as each horse steadied itself after the impact. The second rider arrived, striking again and again above the beast, seeking a target in vain. For a moment, the two sat puzzled before realizing they had been deceived. They turned their animals and charged back toward the general fray with all haste.
Two riders bore down on the young knight just as he drew his sword from its scabbard. One spear he deftly turned to the side with his blade, but the other found its way to strike at his very heart. Another shattered spear was dropped on the battlefield due to the force of the blow and, as the gallant Telian reeled in the saddle, Darian thanked both the Eilian and the worthy smith that had just stood between himself and the land of death. In one fluid motion, the young knight's skilled opponent dropped the splintered shaft and drew his sword. The bold knight quickly found himself blocking blows from each side as sword and spear lashed out at him time and time again.
Music that was both dark and menacing filled the air as Ian's fingers danced along the pipes. As the embattled Telian struggled against his adversaries, he saw looks of fear and dread begin to spread across their faces. Their attacks become far more numerous, but far less skilled as well. Their blades lashed out at the empty air as often as they were aimed at their target and, between sword and armor, not one of the vicious attacks that surrounded him found its way to the young knight's flesh. The men fought not as soldiers facing a mortal foe, but as men who fight hopelessly against the cold embrace of death itself.
Once more, the two archers surveyed the battlefield and, once more, the same target attracted their deadly attention. One of the soldiers pursuing Tealor, to his misfortune, had gotten behind the mighty warrior and was riding quickly toward the struggling mercenary, his lance firmly set. In his hand, he held their companion's death blow and so brought death upon himself. For a second time, the sound of singing bows and a pain filled cry announced that one of the soldiers was no more.
Tealor now had only three foes to contend with. However, each of them were both skilled and experienced and did their best to surround him. The two soldiers that had joined their captain threw their spears to the ground, and four swords flashed in the fray. Blow after blow fell upon the brave warrior. This one met with his blade, that one his shield, some he dodged while still others were deflected by the strength of his armor. His adversaries knew their business well and, as Tealor lashed out in one direction then another, his blade met only steel. The captain was a patient man and waited for the perfect opportunity to strike at his powerful foe. At last, his chance came. The mercenary struck out at one of the soldiers and, though his sword found its mark in his enemy's chest, it left his sword arm stretched at full length for a moment too long. In an instant, the captain's blade sliced through Tealor's outstretched limb.
Seeing her husband in danger Sarena suddenly became visible as she called on the power of the arcane to strike down her foes. She stood on the bridge beside Ian, where she had slipped off her horse at the very beginning of the skirmish, moving her arms quickly and singing softly to herself. She seemed to pull light from the very air around her, and a shimmering mist surrounded her elegant frame. Suddenly, she threw her hands out toward her husband's assailants, and three arrows of power flew instantly in their direction. All three struck the unfortunate soldier that had, only a moment before, felt the bite of Tealor's blade. He fell from his saddle silently, and the mighty warrior now faced only two opponents.
Ian’s fingers stopped their dreadful dance and, while the haunting music of the pipes still echoed off the hills, he began to sing. His deep and powerful voice spoke of doom to the bold knight's three adversaries. Darian couldn't understand the words, but somehow an image was formed in his mind's eye. He saw himself striking down his three opponents with ease, their bodies left for the crows. As time passed, their bare bones were bleached in the sun; their graves and their lives both forgotten because they had been foolish enough to face an unconquerable Telian in deadly co
mbat.
The young knight couldn't be sure if that was the song's meaning or not, but that his foes feared the song's message could not be doubted. He saw the fear in their eyes turn quickly to maddening terror. At last, the sentry screamed, turning his back on the noble knight and fleeing as fast as his legs would carry him toward the edge of the nearest wood. His two companions instantly followed his example, and the riders spurred their horses away from the fray as if pursued by death itself.
With all three of his foes fleeing as quickly as they could away from the battle, Darian saw the opportunity to rush to the aid of his wounded ally. His horse burst into a gallop and, within seconds, his blade struck out at the soldier flanking the mighty warrior. As the Mikralian turned to face his new opponent, Tealor grinned with the realization that now he and the captain faced each other alone. Blood streamed from his arm as his sword came down upon his enemy time and time again.
However, the bold knight's charge was not without some cost. He had left the bridge unguarded and, as he rushed to rescue one of his companions, the others were left open to the two soldiers riding quickly to engage them. Gwendolyn realized that their enemies would be among them before the others had time to react. She did the only thing she could think of and kicked her horse onward across the bridge; galloping madly away from the battle. Her ploy worked, and the two charging soldiers turned their beasts to pursue the young maiden.
Both Erana and Kilren had been distracted by the young knight's charge and the fearful odds that Tealor faced. However, Gwendolyn's bold maneuver brought their attention to the two soldiers who were riding wildly after her. Both bent their bows and both loosed their shafts. Again, their aim was true and – for a third time – two deadly projectiles struck the same foe. One of the riders fell with a scream from his saddle.
The Stars of Areon (The Chronicles of Areon Book 1) Page 13
