The smooth gorget was finished with a large gold border, fixed to the rest by sharp studs, bearing the inscription ‘Silentium et Meditatio’ in large golden letters. The armbands of the armour were of exceptional workmanship offering total protection and adorned with just scratches and dents. The broad shoulders were covered by mighty black pauldron, in beaten metal with lugubrious motifs of death and ghosts. The protection of the right shoulder was similar to the helmet in its subject, except for the colour, being all black. While the left shoulder protection showed very unusual workmanship. It had a multitude of skulls, which seemed to emerge from the metal, pushing their way out.
A huge iron mace was menacingly carried on the black leather belt, which was tightened around the tunic, which in turn, fell over the hilt of the sword. The sword had a V hand guard, typical of Nordic weapons. The simple hilt, had iron wire wound around it, and the V-shaped pommel, which was upside down with respect to the guard, also showed its northern origin.
The soldier was approaching the three nobles at a quick, fearless pace. He was so bold as to expect the three Generals to move, forcing them to give way. When the hooded man stood beside them, he stopped, giving them all a strange icy sensation and a feeling of uneasiness, which was hard to define. Without turning his skeleton head, he spoke in a deep voice. It had a metallic rumble, perhaps due to the closed helmet:
"The light of the just ones trembles through idle and dumbfounded pathways. There is no dishonour in the death of those who pursue the path to glory."
After this incomprehensible phrase he continued on his way, passing the gentlemen, leaving as a gift a confused sensation. On his back he carried a steel shield, beautifully worked with great artistry; it also had a multitude of skulls that seemed to be coming out of its surface. Each skull was lacquered in white, contrasting strongly with the black background. At the centre, in the colour of the blood, was a large Greek cross with swallowtail arms. This indicated who the soldier was, without a shadow of doubt.
"Belial Cerno!"High exclaimed in a worried voice.
"By your leave, who on earth is he?" Godwin asked.
"The Inquisitor is his nickname, Sovereign of the free city of Denethor, Hero of the Citadel, and first ally of the Kingdom of United Men," Holaf answered. However he felt obliged to specify, "Note, that I said ‘Ally of the Kingdom’, not of the Emperor."
"Forgive me, Lord of the North, but I fear I do not understand!" Godwin exclaimed, slightly embarrassed.
"Belial puts his life in the hands of a different creed, older than any other. He is a warrior monk, who spends his life in the dark bastion, and together with his sages. They scrutinize the signs, seeking corruption in the minds of men, without fear or favour to anything or anyone," explained the God-Slayer in a broken voice.
"But if these beings are looking for corruption among men, why are Dicius and Grigor still among us?" asked Holaf jokingly, to ease the tension. He was as aware as High of the undeniable bad omen represented by Belial's visit to the court. It was a clear indication of an unexpected further deterioration in the situation.
After leaving the gallery, when his eyes were used to daylight again, even if it was feeble, after some time Holaf asked:
"My friends, I am ashamed to admit I didn't understand anything of what Belial said!"
The King of the North was heartened when Godwin also admitted:
"Nor did I understand what he said!"
"I understood nothing either!" said High, still thinking about what had happened. He was heartened by the admission of the others. He added, "My father, when he was still alive, told stories about Belial. Stories, in which Belial appeared as non-human and of infinite wisdom. His seemingly delirious phrases often returned later as prophecies and, to tell the truth, I don't think this augurs well."
"That’s great! Then we will all die!" Holaf preferred to joke rather than face this utterance seriously, because nothing good could come out of it.
"It's not certain that we'll all die," Godwin replied. Thoughtful and standing still, he brooded for a few moments, and then commented: "But if we were to die, it would be the will of God."
"Yes, it's all right for you, but I believe in other Gods! So, what your God wants is none of my business. But I really hope that none of them wish me dead," Holaf replied ironically, bringing a smile to their faces at least for the moment.
Ready and full of energy, the men who made up the three escorts awaited their respective Lords. The southern escort consisted of only two men on horseback, not even knights but armigers. They had been chosen by Godwin, who believed greatly in fate. He was certain that he was protected by God. The escort’s chain mail was covered by a tunic, which was divided into four alternating red and white squares. They were not protected from any type of weapon. Only their shields provided some kind of cover. The shields were also red and white, with the addition of a clenched black fist at the centre.
High could count on a private guard of three knights, who, like their Lord, were well protected by burnished armour, with burgundy lacquered edgings. This showed they belonged to the Lord of the East. Another similarity with the God-Slayer were the cloaks, bearing the symbol of the red threaded sword, set clearly on a plain white fabric. Their King wore a cloak with the same symbol, but on the richer fabric in two colours.
Holaf amazed his two companions. Not only did he have had four men with him, but they were also members of the order of the Masters of War.
"You are taking heroes as an escort, my brother!" High commented surprised and satisfied.
"Yes, I like to travel safely and, given the times, I don't think I have chosen wrongly," Holaf proudly replied.
Godwin was fascinated and left speechless by this, as he watched the strongest and most decorated warriors in Trondheim. He gave an involuntary nod of approval.
The Righteous admired the heavy plate armour that the knights wore. It was rough and bare, aged by the blows suffered in battle. The fur mantles worn on their backs gave a wild and intimidating appearance to those great men. They had long hair in various shades of blond. Their armour was not entirely the same, but very similar, and had engraved shoulder straps with the names of the battles seen and the number of men defeated. On the body armour there was a big rune, giving number of the soldier. This was make orders in the field simpler, when the clash of swords against the shields lead to high levels of stress which made remembering the name of this or that soldier difficult.
Swords, axes, and a war- hammer, which were much larger than usual, hung at their sides.
Their helmets were of different shapes, but had in common a search for refinement in depicting monsters making the terrifying men even more fearsome. They easily induced their unfortunate enemies into a state of panic. Horns and tusks were affixed as ornaments to helmets and armour, and the skulls and bones of animals were tied to the cloaks increased the choreographic effect. The final details were by long shaggy and wild beards.
Master number one dismounted from his horse and approached the three Kings who watched in admiration. Once he was close enough, the knight beat his right fist on his chest, making a wild clamour, attracting the attention of everyone including passers-by and said:
"At your command, my Lord!"
Holaf replied, "Yes, number one. It's time to give some answers. Prepare the horses. A long journey awaits us." Then Holaf addressed his two peers, apologizing heartily: "I ask forgiveness, my friends, if my warrior has not given you his greetings as he should have. The War Masters are excellent soldiers, but any non-military protocol is not to their liking."
Godwin answered by minimizing:
"I don't see any problem, dear friend, but promise me that at the next restricted Council you will allow them to enter the Titan."
"Why?" Holaf asked intrigued.
"Simple, Lord of the North! To make Grigor explode with anger, when all four do not greet him!" High laughed, having understood Godwin's joke.
The three Sovereigns laughed he
artily. The idyll was broken when Godwin, serious, promised Holaf:
"I will send my best men to Kitan, where they will await your family's arrival."
"Thank you, Lord of the South! Calculate that the road to the north is longer than the road you are taking. Moreover, I will have to make many stops before arriving home." Holaf warned Righteous, who smiling replied:
"Certainly, but I won't delay much, I'm not afraid of depriving myself of a hundred soldiers, even if they are excellent, knowing that they are busy with such a task."
"One hundred soldiers, do you plan to attack any villages along the way?" High exclaimed, astonished, as he would have sent only about twenty.
"I consider our families are the only reason for living. They are given to us by God and he expects us to protect them," Godwin replied, stoically.
Holaf was very pleased and felt further reassured, given the superabundant number of excellent soldiers that would be sent. In his heart he was grateful to the Lord of the South for such attention to his loved ones.
The great Generals, with their entourage, mounted their horses and began travelling through the streets of the Citadel. Capital of the Empire of the United Men, the Citadel was a rather strange city and from an urban point of view a real nightmare.
It presented itself to the visitor as an immense maze of winding streets. The alleys and roads were paved with a viscid dark grey stone of no aesthetic value. The paving stones were the width of the whole carriageway and several spans long. They were laid at a distance from each other to create drainage channels able, to divert excess water to the edge of the road towards the buildings.
The roads were designed to be difficult to walk along, narrow enough to allow two horses to pass only in the principal streets, even then not too comfortably. Although the Citadel stood on the Throne of the Titans Highlands, which were as flat as a wooden board, when the roads were built the engineers chose to build embankments designed to give a hilly effect. The aim of this was to make it hard for horses or men to race along the streets, without risking disastrous falls. It was very dangerous for the horses’ legs. The deep drainage channels also broke the wheels of any wagons that tried to tackle such roads at high speed.
It was an excellent defensive measure but it had the defect of making life in the big city slow and boring, to the point of creating a reverse in the tide of inhabitants. The population, in fact, preferred to move to one of the cities of the Ring of Steel, as they were more moderate, lively and adapted for human life.
Despite its labyrinthine, narrow and uncomfortable streets, the capital offered significant advantages to those who lived there. The first advantage of all was cleanliness. There was no stench of urine or worse anywhere, nothing, not even a piece of paper dropped on the ground. Here and there fruit trees peeped over the tops of the walls of noble gardens. None of the fruit was left to rot in their shadow. All this enviable hygiene was due to the harshness with which the militia of the Citadel ruled. The punishment was severe even if you dropped a bucket of poultry feed and didn't clean it up quickly.
Another enormous advantage was the almost total lack of criminality. If any illegal act was discovered it was at most small and never violent thefts. So the Citadel, despite being unattractive to many, seemed the most natural choice to the privileged few. With their rich treasures they felt the need of protection for their assets. Over many generations the streets had been filled with buildings with high and smooth walls. Almost every building had features in common, dictated by the defensive urban plan. A clear example was the small and narrow doors made of heavy solid wood, reinforced by studded steel plates, secured to the thick jambs by huge wrought iron hinges.
Another detail, which was compulsory, concerned the construction of the first and second floor of each building. The walls had to be of twice the thickness compared to the higher floors. This rule was imposed to make it impossible to breach the walls and so escape through the buildings. Finally, very few windows could be permitted, two or three at most for the ground floor and first floor and two and no more for the basement. Obviously they had to be small to prevent the passage of even an infant and always had to have massive steel bars.
Despite these limitations, you couldn’t say that the Citadel was a horrendous or sad place. In fact, the nobles and the wealthy, who are always and everywhere hungry for personal glory, found a pleasant and singular way to display rivalry regarding wealth. Not being able to build towers on their homes, as was usually the case, once again because of imperial limits, they gave impulse and free rein to the decorative art of painting. Wherever the group of riders looked, they could see magnificent works of art in amazing colours. Architectural designs, stuccoes and statues were painted with maniacal attention in the search for absolute realism and ostentation of riches. At hidden points doors with intricate wrought iron gates were revealed to the visitors. They allowed glimpses of magnificent and lush decorative vegetation. All false and richly painted.
The simulated gardens were painted in such a realistic way as to deceive one of the horses belonging to High's escort. The animal, disobeying the command of his knight, tried to graze on the fresh leaves. Earning the curses of his master, the horse went up to the painted wall, stopping disappointed as soon as he realised he had been deceived.
The men were struck by a building with very unusual decorations on its walls; in fact, it showed twenty-three splendid women in a state of undress, posed fetchingly on a fake balcony. The young ladies were temptresses, their clothes mostly stoles of mink and semi-transparent veils. But the fabric had been placed so as not to hide any details that might be of interest to men. Holaf also looked at them, attracted the skill of the artist and not only that. Smiling, he commented:
"I should have a couple of them painted on the entrance doors of the Arkantorre!"
"I say they are more appropriate to a brothel like this than to the dwelling of a Sovereign," Godwin replied in his usual tone of voice then he added, "In the dwellings of the Kings it is better that they are in flesh and blood," and he smiled, seeing High turn toward him with shocked eyes.
"What has happened to your religion!" exclaimed the God-Slayer smiling.
"No, no! Religion is present and strong. It is fidelity that is likely to suffer!" Holaf said.
"I am religious and faithful, I yearn for no one but my wife, but if you were to paint attractive semi-nude maidens in front of my nose, I would give them more than a passing glance too," Godwin said in a self- defence.
"My friend, you don't need to defend yourself, we well understood that you were joking. Yours was a joke in perfectly good taste in my opinion," High commented to reassure Godwin, who was already repenting the fact that he let such a phrase escape his lips.
The soldiers of the escort were noisy in the hope that some beautiful girl would reveal herself to them from the windows of the third floor. Only one of the Masters of War, number three, was aloof to the display of furious virility. Holaf slowed his horse down and as he came up to the warrior he asked:
"What worries you, my Master?"
"Nothing serious, my King," he answered shortly.
"I hope you not suffering the pains of love?" insisted Holaf as if he were a good friend.
"No, my King, I vented my needs in those very rooms last night," replied the soldier from his black helmet with the designs of a dragon. He pointed to the brothel, then added: "My King, is someone following us or am I mistaken?"
When asked this by the soldier Holaf stared and tensed up completely. Looking around him, he asked number three:
"What should I have noticed? Has something escaped me?"
"Dark, secretive men are watching us from the shadowy corners!" the knight exclaimed, looking around, all alert, before he continued: "I fear a strong assault in these ugly, narrow alleys. If they were to target us with darts and arrows, we would have little hope."
Holaf, relying on the judgment of his knight, ordered:
"Excellent, knights, take car
e and call the Masters to guard, while I warn the Sovereigns.
The Lord of the North spurred his horse, arriving quickly at the head of the procession, where his two friends were deep in friendly talk on matters of small import. Holaf could not come alongside, as the road was too narrow for three horses and, putting on his terrifying demon's helmet, he said:
"My dear friends, they are watching us from the shadows of these winding stone lanes!"
"Are you sure?" Godwin, asked, reflexively he took his helmet out of a sack and put it on his head.
"I'm not sure, but one of my soldiers noticed movement. He saw a suspicious-looking person watching." Holaf answered, sliding his round shield from his back to his arm.
"Curses!" said High, grinding his teeth. He had not even worn his shield, "It was supposed to be a friendly visit and not a disgusting ambush!" he stated.
The departure from the Citadel had turned into an anxious cavalcade of glances and fears. At every turn the dread of ambush grew greater. Holaf agreed with his number three Master, seeing the danger of an attack using arrows hurled from the surrounding tall buildings. In such a position it would have been the ideal tactical choice, also according to the King of the North.
The three leaders stopped the march abruptly, because a man stood in the middle of the street staring at them, motionless. He wore a large and not very reassuring chain mail tunic and a sparrow beak helmet with an open visor. He had a blood red over- tunic, the colour of the imperial army. His body armour was unadorned except for the twelve-pointed star, engraved on his chest. His armour looked shiny and well maintained. Even though he did not have a threatening air, one of the knights escorting the Lord of the East, a skilled archer, preferred to load his crossbow and point it at the unknown silhouette. The shot would have been very dangerous for the knight. He would only have been able to reach the second row next to Holaf and would have been forced to shoot between the heads of the two Kings, who preceded him.
The man on foot looked around cautiously, then he recognized the Kings, made a deep bow and shouted, given the distance at which the procession had stopped:
TRONDHEIM SAGEN: Earth Shattering Page 8
