* * *
The sun was rising, the three men stood facing each other in the clearing before the cave, awake and ready for training before it was even light. Gone were the men’s old gambesons, now replaced by furs and resembling their teacher more all the time. They stood, more confidently, more eagerly, and with sharper wits. A few weeks with Hammer had taught them to always be ready for a fight, no matter the occasion.
“Put down your staffs. Your progress in strength and technique is good, but now let us work on your timing and use of the body. You need to be faster, and make better use of your bodies in combat. The first part of this is learning to read your opponent, the quicker you can read their intentions, the quicker you can respond to them. Focus on my every action, the way my eyes move, the change of my grip, the turning of my feet.”
They nodded, throwing their staffs down.
“Bull, you are first. All you have to do is not get hit, read my intentions, then use your footwork, bend at the body, twist, duck and shift your bodyweight. These are all the fine details that will make you an exceptional fighter, more than just a bestial man.”
Bull nodded in response as Markus stepped back to the cave entrance and out of the way.
Hammer and Bull circled the clearing, Bull intently trying to look for the tells of an attack, trying to understand his opponent in ways he had never imagined. Hammer threw his first attack, a deliberately clumsy and wide horizontal cut. He quickly stepped a pace back and tilted his bodyweight back, the staff gliding past him.
The next strike was a heavy vertical strike, enough to crush a man. Bull leapt to one side, narrowly avoiding the strike, the staff slamming into the snow. Just as he thought he was safe, Hammer cut with a backhand strike from the ground up to Bull’s chest, smashing him down to the ground.
“That’s a good start, but you assumed I would be predictable, never assume that! The very best fighter can catch you out with knowledge and skill, and the very worst can do so by sheer luck.”
He offered his hand and pulled his student to his feet. Pointing to Markus, he gestured for him to come and take his turn. He proudly stepped forward and glad to be tested at something he was naturally good at. Hammer did not give warning or say to begin. He simply started swinging. Markus stepped back and forth, twisted his body, voiding numerous strikes. The seventh strike was a fast and hard horizontal swing, too close to dodge, Markus leapt into the air and into a back flip, narrowly missing the strike, but just as he landed on his feet, the staff pivoted around and crashed into him. He was thrown back against a tree, hitting it hard, his back groaning, he was in pain.
“You move well, but never get cocky! The only aim of a fight is to crush your enemy and receive as little damage as possible, anything else is for fools and dancers.”
Markus nodded, annoyed at how hard his teacher had hit, but knowing it taught him the lesson well. He had let pride get in the way of victory, and had paid the price.
“You see that peak over there?”
He pointed to a snow-covered peak in the mountain range, void of all trees. It was a barren place.
“Yes,” said Bull.
“I want the two of you to run to the top of it, the last one back collects the firewood, and I know how long it should take you, so don’t drag your heels!”
Markus dropped his head in amazement, sick at the very idea of such a journey.
“Come on! Where has that warrior spirit gone?”
“Much more of this and you will break us.”
“And if I treat you any easier, your enemy will break you far worse!”
“Come on, enough whining,” Bull said.
They set off at a slow running pace, as much as they could manage with so little enthusiasm between them, their bodies aching as they had done for every day since they arrived at their teacher’s cave. They ran for hours, exhausted before they had really even started.
“You think this will all be worth it?” shouted Markus.
“Werstria is dying, you know that, a shadow of its former self, that old man is giving us both the chance to be more than we ever could. I cannot say whether we will win our future battles, but I can say we will give the finest performance of any man in the land!”
“That’s really helpful, Bull.”
“Stop complaining and start thinking like a winner.”
Markus laughed, he felt a new power of motivation rise within himself, just as he had felt weeks before. They ran on, faster than they ever imagined they could for such a prolonged period, the incline getting ever steeper, until they were almost climbing. They scrambled their way to the craggy peak of the mountain, finally standing tall and looking out in every direction. It was an exhilarating feeling; neither man had ever seen such a sight.
Looking out across the lands of Werstria to the west, Markus pointed to the city of Lienzberg. They could just make out the tall walls of the huge city. They marvelled at the sight of it, knowing it would almost certainly be where they would truly test their mettle. At the centre of the city, a huge manmade mound stood, a square-towered castle reaching for the sky.
Markus looked at Bull, “It may be weeks, it may be months, but we are going to stand in that tower, the tallest tower of the city above where the Lords carry out their work, above everything in the land. We will stand before the burning and beaten armies of our enemies and we will lift of the flag of Werstria!”
He was unsure of how his friend would respond, having already begun to forget the man’s origins. He felt sad for having to condemn the man’s countrymen, but the hate in his heart was fiery.
“Markus, there is nothing left for me in Karsia, I have nothing in common with those people anymore. They would do nothing but hang me. I do not care for any Kings and Lords, you are my leader, and I will follow you to whatever end is needed.”
Markus smiled, honoured by his friend’s loyalty, but amused by it also.
“My dear friend, you will not follow me to our end, but victory in every journey that we take!”
They both laughed, before again looking out at the gloomy city that awaited them across the plains. For a brief moment they heard a shrill shriek in the distance, the source of which they could neither see nor comprehend. Both men felt a tingle in their spines, each thinking for just a moment that is could be something unimaginably horrible, as they had both come to realise that things they had never thought possible could exist in this world did. It passed quickly and neither of them wanted to jump to any conclusions.
“Hammer will be awaiting us, let’s go!” shouted Markus.
They clambered down the steep peak until they could again break into a run. Storming through the open ground covered in thick snow, they reached the dense forests. The downhill stint was a casual journey compared to the trek up, a refreshing one in fact. It was dark by the time they reached sight of the clearing at Hammer’s cave, a light wisp of smoke trailing from the hidden chimney.
They trundled on towards the cave, eager to rest their weary legs, but as they approached the last trees before the opening, a shadowy figure covered from head to toe, leapt from the darkness of the trees, kicking Markus off his feet. Bull immediately responded with a punch to the stranger’s face, ducked under and punched to his ribs, and a second strike to his face as he keeled over. Markus leapt to his feet and drew his dagger from his back. The stranger relaxed from his fighting stance and stood upright, pulling back the veil and hood from his face. It was Hammer.
“Never assume a situation is safe!”
Markus looked sheepish. They had walked into a trap that could have cost them their lives if it had been an enemy.
“But you wanted us to run, and we knew this place was safe!” shouted Bull.
“Sometimes you have no option to run, it is not an excuse for stupidity. The smoke trail from that chimney, no matter how subtle, is a prime signal to an enemy. You have been gone most of the day and with no idea who or what now rests here!”
The wise teacher turned
and walked back to his cave, grinning to himself once they could not see his face. He was confident in the knowledge that he was able to teach them a lesson. However, he knew this lesson was a well taught one, no matter how unfair.
Several weeks past as the two friends developed their strength, speed, timing and stamina. They had been there for two months when one morning they stepped out of the cave to find Hammer stood beside a table full of swords. It was the first time either man had seen a sword outside the cave since their arrival. Their primitive training made them forget the feel of cold steel.
“Gentlemen, we are weeks away from your departure, and you only have one thing left to master, the sword. Neither of you are at all new to the weapon, but you have much to learn. Markus it is especially important for you to be a master of the sword!”
“I thought you said to master the staff would be to know how to use any weapon,” said Markus, not sure what Hammer meant.
“Any two-handed weapons yes, and you both now undoubtedly wield them with the utmost skill, but now to single-handed weapons and their companions.”
“I like big swords,” said Bull.
“Yes, I am sure, but we may not always choose the weapons we favour, just as you found when I first met you, now, grab a sword.”
They each picked up an arming sword, not so different to the sword that Markus was issued with and had carried until the events at Raubuck village, though these were blunt, with rounded tips, and dull edges.
“The sword is a fine instrument of war, not a barbarian’s club. That said, the first rule should always be to hit your man, hit him before he moves. If he moves quick enough to parry, strike him on his other exposed side.”
“This is nothing new,” said Markus sarcastically.
“Certainly not, but too often the best swordsman forgets the very basics which made them a great fighter. Markus, stop my attack.”
Before Markus could speak or respond, the hulking teacher cut a strong diagonal cut towards his left collar. Markus parried with a vertical parry, the two blades clashing to a dead stop. Hammer shook his head in disgust.
“What did you just do?”
“I stopped your attack.”
“You saved your skin yes, but gained no advantage in the fight. The best form of defence will always be to kill your attacker. They can no longer attack you when they lie in a pool of their own blood. Do not parry with the tip of the sword high, do not waste your opportunity to strike as you parry. Now attack me!”
Markus cut to the collar, just as Hammer had done to him. Hammer parried with a diagonal parry, the strong wide part of his blade displacing Markus’ sword, and the point just a finger’s distance away from his face. Markus leaned back in shock, almost having lost an eye.
“A dead parry only saves your skin, a displacement with the point on line can defend and strike in one, or at least gain you a tactical advantage to strike back from.”
Their sword training continued all day, and for weeks after, until their time was finally up. On the day they were set to leave they walked out of the cave to the familiar sight of Hammer standing before them, as he always was.
“You have become great fighters, maybe half the man I am, between you.”
The two men both laughed, before all shaking hands and glad for the rigorous training to be over, but sad to be leaving a friend.
“You have several weeks before an offensive can be launched to re-take Lienzberg. I suggest you devote your time to acquiring new equipment and recruiting some worthy fighters to your side. To the south of here, perhaps three days walk, is an old stone tower, huge in fact. It has long since been swallowed up by the forest but contains every piece of armour and weaponry you could dream of, and wild horses reside there. Men as capable as you should eagerly tame them,” Hammer explained.
“This tower, why has no one pillaged its wealth?” asked Markus.
“It is guarded by a tribe of savages. I have no idea where they came from, nobody does, but something keeps them there, and has done for countless generations. I can only think they worship the tower.”
“You believe we can handle them?” Bull asked him.
“If you can’t, then you might as well go home now.”
“Who built this tower?”
“We did, Markus, a long time ago, a hunting lodge for the King, a retreat from political turmoil. During a great war centuries ago it become a place for safe keeping many great artefacts, but has long since been forgotten.”
“We can take what we want?”
“There is no one left, Bull, to care or know. But remember, no matter what your training and equipment, you are only two men, you would be wise to find some capable men to follow you.”
“Any other words of wisdom?” asked Markus.
“Only one, rumour tells me that the Karsians have summoned the power of Dragons.”
Markus shot a concerned look to Bull, for their mention was becoming all too common.
“Rumour? From who?”
“The birds, they speak to me,” Hammer answered.
If it had been anyone else who had said such a thing to them they would have laughed and called the man a fool, but their months in the Salbeins had shown them that Hammer was not a man to discount.
“But Dragons are only myths?”
“Markus, Dragons used to fly throughout these lands, many generations ago. Wild and savage beasts, which if controlled could be a devastating weapon of war.”
“You think the Karsians have such beasts?”
“I fear so, yes.”
“What can be done to stop them?” Bull asked.
“A Dragon can take many hundreds or thousands of men and weapons to kill, but there is another way. Thousands of years ago, seven swords were forged with the iron skin of the creatures, soaked in their blood and bound by powerful warlocks, far beyond my abilities. These swords, the Seven Swords of the Dragon Kings can kill such a creature with a single well-placed strike. They can emit fire in the proximity of the creatures and are the only thing they fear.”
“Do they still exist?”
“Many of long been lost or forgotten, Bull, but one remains in the tower I am sending you to. The sword has golden runes inset in the blade and a Dragon head upon its pommel, it is unmistakeable.”
“We will find the sword,” said Markus, “but do you believe our war to be just? Can I use the magic of the sword?”
“Defend our lands and defend our people. That is the just thing to do. Markus, only a true and loyal leader of the people can kill a Dragon with the magical powers of such a sword. I believe you are such a leader, ” Hammer replied.
“And revenge, how can I be satisfied?”
“I cannot answer that for you, Markus, but I am confident that your path will lead you to as much a conclusion as you will ever achieve. Remember the dead cannot be reborn, but the living can still be killed.”
Markus nodded, still feeling the bitter hatred he had before, but carefully considering his teacher’s words.
“Thank you, Hammer, for all that you have done.”
“It has been an honour.”
Markus and Bull turned south and set off, not turning back, never risking a sign of weakness, thinking only of their mission.
Chapter 4
Markus and Bull walked steadily all day through the Salbein Mountains, awed by the beauty of the place, but always aware that they could not afford to slow down or stop. The two friends travelled with nothing more than what they had about their bodies, and the staffs in their arms. The only steel weapon between them was Markus’ dagger, which he had managed to hold onto throughout their struggles. This did not bother either man. Since their months with Hammer they had the utmost confidence in themselves and the staffs they wielded, to take them through their next adventure.
“Back in Karsia, Bull, what did you do?”
“Soldier.”
“Before that?”
“Nothing before that, I have been a soldier since I co
uld wield a sword.”
“Were you any good?” asked Markus.
“The best in my legion, and hated for it.”
“Should you not be admired for being the best?”
“Yes, but many men wanted the title of Champion of the Legion, and would stab another in the back to get it, especially a half-breed.”
“Is that part of the reason you were condemned to death?”
“Perhaps, what about you?”
“I worked our family’s land as a boy and throughout my youth.”
“Your father’s land?”
“It used to be, he was killed in Zwetsee.”
“Tell me, Markus, why do you fight?”
“You mean, why did I join the armies of Werstria?”
“Yes.”
“Because my father did before me, because I was told how important it was, and how glorious. But there was always I felt that something was leading me to my destiny. And you, Bull?”
“I joined because I wanted victory, I wanted to be the best, and remembered for it.”
“That’s an honest answer, and perhaps something we would all desire,” replied Markus.
“Then let us not desire it any longer, let us take it!”
They continued on with their journey, it was the first time the two men of the opposite regions had discussed their history and differences. All their time with Hammer had been so utterly devoted to their training that they had begun to forget its purpose. Up ahead they were quickly alerted to the motion of a rabbit bounding around, they looked at each other.
“Would make a fine meal,” said Bull.
“Do you think we are fast enough?”
“We’ll see.”
They widened their distance and approached the rabbit in a pincher movement, creeping ever closer. They got within a few paces of the creature when Bull stood on a fallen branch. The wood creaked and snapped under his weight, immediately startling the animal. It leapt to back off from the huge man, but Markus swung his staff down with perfect timing and accuracy, killing the rabbit instantly.
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