by Jon Kiln
She took another step back and teetered on the edge. Berengar lifted his blade and advanced. She lowered her sword and then smiled in a way that looked like a cornered animal baring its teeth. She took a casual step backward and vanished over the edge.
Berengar stared at the edge in shock. He took a step forward and looked over. The rock face beyond the drop was sheer. He thought he saw motion, but then could not pick up the fall of her body, nor where she might have landed.
He considered that he and Nisero had survived a couple of drops along this journey, but none like this. He was disappointed that he lost the opportunity to burn the bear cloak and horned helmet of Zulag for good. He wondered if he would have to deal with this woman or another bandit king donning it before his life was over.
He had cut her deeply and she was far from dressed for the extremes of this region, even if she did survive that fall in some way. Still, he had his doubts.
Berengar stepped away from the edge and turned to face down the slope. He saw his daughter at the front of a scattering of friendly faces approaching him.
Captain Berengar dropped his sword and wrapped his daughter Arianne in a tight hug, lifting her off the ground. Nisero stopped a few steps away and sheathed his own sword. The rest of the Elite Guard stood staggered down the slope of the rocky rise. They lifted their fists and weapons, and cheered.
Berengar released his daughter and looked down through the faces of the men he had known so well for so long. Blood marked the fronts of the crests and dripped from their weapons. As they still stood, he assumed most of it was that of the bandits.
In the distance, he saw scattered pockets of dark figures fleeing the ruins of the ancient castle. They would probably be a problem in the future. They might be Berengar’s problem or Nisero’s, or maybe some future generation of the king’s warriors, but that would always be the way. If he pursued and slew every last man and his relatives, others would rise in time. A man would rise to lead the dark forces, or perhaps another woman warrior, in time.
He turned and looked at the drop off. “Perhaps Solag again.”
“Father?”
He turned and looked at his daughter. Berengar smiled and kissed her on the forehead.
She smiled back. “I’m sorry I defied your wishes and came back. I should have trusted you.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t really know what I was doing, but that never stopped me before.”
He stepped away from her for a moment and wrapped Nisero up in a hug. The men cheered again.
“You were all the army I needed, lieutenant. I owe you my life—my daughter’s life.”
“I could never repay all you have done for me, sir. Even with all this, I still consider myself eternally in your debt.”
Berengar released Nisero. “It is kind of you to say, lieutenant Nisero, but saving my daughter is an immeasurable value. I am the one that owes you, and will be at your side at a moment’s call for as long as my bones are still held together by skin.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Berengar thought about Daughter Solag playing with bones in the dungeons of the ruined castle, and he thought about her ruined mind. He shook off the dark feelings and hoped she was really dead.
“I guess I should call you captain now,” Berengar said.
Nisero shook his head. “No, sir. Not yet. Forseth was promoted to captain in my absence. He led the men out here under his command as soon as word of the fate of your village reached him.”
“Forseth?” Berengar sighed. He looked at Nisero and then looked away. “I’ll appeal to the king myself. Once your bravery is known, they will find a command for you somewhere, I’m sure.”
Nisero patted the captain’s shoulder. “It is fine. I am happy serving with the Elite Guard. My time will come.”
“Your time has come,” Berengar protested. “You lost the promotion because you came with me. You deserve it. You lost it because of me.”
Nisero shook his head. “With respect, sir, you are wrong. I made a choice. Sacrifice means giving something up. My time will come when it is meant to come. I serve the Elite Guard by serving my captains. If I made you a better captain by being your lieutenant, then it is my time to do the same for Captain Forseth, for a while. I will serve him and my king with honor. He led well this day and deserves it.”
“You will be the best he could ever hope for,” Berengar said.
Forseth climbed the slope and smiled up at the two men. “Why are you two playing on his barren rock? Let’s get out of this awful land, back to where ale and women are more pleasant toward me.”
“I’d hate to slow you down, Captain Forseth,” Berengar said.
Forseth looked between Berengar and Nisero. “You heard?”
Berengar walked down and patted Forseth’s shoulders. “I get great views in my retirement home. Do you like it? It could use some work.”
Forseth looked from Berengar to the castle. “It’s a bit remote, sir. I had some trouble with your neighbors.”
Berengar nodded. “I’m tired. Maybe we’ll move a little closer in to civilization, if you don’t mind escorting me.”
“Of course, sir,” Forseth dropped his voice lower. “I’m sorry for your grave loss, but rejoice that you and your daughter are safe together. Do you know where you will go?”
“I don’t know. We’ll rebuild somewhere under the protection of the Elite Guard. Thank you for coming for us.”
Forseth nodded and turned back down the slope. “Of course, we never considered any other option.”
The other Elite Guard descended as well.
Berengar looked back and saw Nisero holding Arianne’s arm as he helped her down. The captain narrowed his eyes and wondered if there was something there growing in their shared experience of fleeing the bandits. Berengar supposed she could do far worse than Nisero, but the captain wasn’t sure he wanted the life of a guardsman’s wife for her. Maybe she wouldn’t either.
Nisero lifted and held out the hilt of Berengar’s sword for him. Berengar took it and resheathed it for what he hoped would be a very long time indeed.
Berengar fell in beside Nisero and did not break the contact between the lieutenant and the captain’s daughter. He put his hand on Nisero’s shoulder as they made their way down the mountain.
He glanced back toward the drop off one last time. He reached up and touched the raw claw marks in his cheek. He had taken many new scars in the course of this journey, and Solag had marked him in ways that could not be seen. The sting of the scratches distracted him from other painful wounds in his spirit that he did not want to think about, for now. As he stared back at the cliff, Berengar realized that he expected to see Solag climbing back up behind him, but he saw nothing.
He turned back forward and navigated his way down from the dark mountain as best he could.
Betrayal
Chapter 1: A Safe Place
Lieutenant Nisero stepped a little closer to the crowds that cheered along the edges of the capital streets. Others further back in the mass of bodies jeered and hurled curses. He did not like being close enough for the citizens to touch him. The women and children at the front edge of the parade grounds pawed over his uniform, the hard edges of his armor, and even the hilt guard of his sword. They merely wanted to have contact with a member of the legendary Elite Guard.
Nisero still did not like the close contact. A hand touching open in admiration could easily extend a short blade and find a seam in the joints of his light armor. The rebel could be away in the crowd before Nisero had time to fall to the cobble stones, dying upon the horse droppings from the dignitaries ahead of him.
The foreign visitors were the very reason Nisero had to remain this far out, within reach of the crowd. As the foreign prince waved to the people of Nisero’s kingdom and capital, the lieutenant had to be close enough to dive upon the arch of a bow, or any other projectile that might be raised at the prince’s back. A blade or bludgeon that came out in the hand of some rogue bol
d enough to attempt to break the lines and charge at the prince’s hindquarters would require Nisero to down the man.
The prince’s backside was Nisero’s charge this day. He intended to protect it better than his own.
Nisero saw movement to his right across the street. He glanced over quickly, seeking not to be long distracted from his own side. He trusted the rest of the Guard with his life, but he would not allow the possible mistake of one of his fellows to bring shame upon his hard fought reputation or the long, successful history of the Elite Guard.
He spotted Captain Forseth pulling back on his horse’s reins one tick at a time, slowly dropping back behind the prince and his procession. Forseth edged over, continuing his trot forward, but bringing his course alongside Lieutenant Nisero.
Nisero turned his head back to his own side to scan the far reaches of the crowd. He saw angry eyes on some of the merchants and working class citizens. Their anger probably had roots in the normal struggles of life and the economic turns of the kingdom. Things which had nothing directly to do with the prince and his aged father’s kingdom to the east.
Still, misdirected anger could lead to poorly judged decisions. He saw their faces and read them as sated disappointment more than murderous intent. Nisero had enough experience with that level of rage in his enemies to recognize it. He was not seeing it here. Still, he had no intention of dropping his guard.
Nisero pulled away from the citizen's grasping hands with some measure of relief. He met on foot alongside his captain on horseback, closer to the center of the street.
Captain Forseth kept his eyes tracking back and forth between the crowds on both sides of the grand avenue. His attention gave Nisero comfort in the man’s leadership in this and in all missions under him, since he rose to the command position a few years previous.
Nisero had been a lieutenant and second to the captain for quite some time when the rank was held by the legendary Captain Berengar. It had been during the ride back to Berengar’s village after his retirement that Nisero’s expected rise to the position was usurped.
Nisero had accompanied his former captain as a final act of respect, before assuming the stewardship of the man’s command, but they had found something different. The child of the bandit king had ill intent upon the captain.
The bandit king killed by Berengar many years before led this child to choose that moment to seek revenge. The vengeance had cost Berengar his wife and son. It nearly cost him his daughter too, who the new bandit king had taken as bait. They pursued the Son of Solag only to find a secret they had never expected. They survived and rescued Captain Berengar’s daughter, largely with the last minute help of the Elite Guard—an Elite Guard commanded by the newly assigned Captain Forseth, in Nisero’s absence.
Berengar’s legend had grown to the levels of magic dragon slayers, even earning him further honors from the King himself. Berengar had accepted with begrudging grace, but then disappeared from the public. This only served to add to his mystery and the grandeur of the stories of his adventures.
Even though Nisero had been at Berengar’s side through the ordeal, he was excluded from the tellings by the people as often as he was included. Nisero had heard Forseth’s name included as the loyal companion in some of the bar room tales. Nisero remained quiet and never sought to correct the record.
The stories will outlive me anyway, he thought.
Since those days, the other men had often looked to Lieutenant Nisero, still serving as a second to a captain who skipped him in the ranks. Even to this day, some three years later, they still watched the commanders’ interaction with one another, waiting for Nisero to crack in disrespect to Forseth. Those cracks never came. Forseth led many successful and perilous missions as captain, building his reputation and honor as the new leader of the Guard.
In private, Forseth had fully credited Nisero’s loyalty for the trust the men provided him. They continued their professional manner in public, even around the other members of the Guard. Nisero had seen Forseth grow as a warrior and a leader. He was leaner in body and spirit in a way that overrode some of his less serious earlier days in the Guard. Nisero would have never said so to the captain, even in private as a compliment, as such a thing might undercut the confidence he had built.
Nisero had begun to realize that he had grown quieter, more stern, and more calloused in spirit. In a way, he felt he was shaping more into the type of man that Berengar had become in his long service. There were far worse things to become, Nisero knew, but he had realized over the hard days of their deadly adventure together that Berengar had become such a man through the grinding of the harsh realities of the world.
Captain Forseth brought Nisero up out of his thoughts as he spoke. “Lieutenant, we will be leaving the city soon. We should stay sharp until we see the prince off at his own border in the east. We want nothing to go wrong.”
“Of course, sir.” Nisero kept his eyes on the crowd beside, ahead, and behind him as he spoke.
“The negotiations did not go well,” Forseth said.
“Is that so, captain?”
“It is.” Captain Forseth turned his attention on Nisero before turning it back out on the crowd. “The proceedings grew quite contentious. I understand furniture was thrown before the royals parted ways.”
Nisero narrowed his eyes. “We should have been in there.”
Forseth shrugged and looked away to the opposite side of the street. “If we had been there, the prince’s guards would have wanted to be present. It might not have been good to have two sets of armed men from opposing lands when furniture started flying.”
“Perhaps not.” Nisero shook his head. “They seemed civil enough at the ceremonies before they parted.”
“They would be,” Forseth said. “Fortunately, the royals don’t have the breeding to throw furniture far, so they missed one another.”
Nisero bit at his lip. Captain Berengar would have never vocalized an insult of the King or his family. “Are you expecting trouble?”
“Always. The kingdom desperately needed a deal on grain to make up for the shortfalls in our own central plain. Yields are proving better farther east, but maybe not enough to feed an entire kingdom. A deal would have been good. That, and we need to avoid war at least until we have enough food to feed an army on the march again.”
Nisero turned his eyes to the backs of the prince and his attendants. “Perhaps the particulars of the political issues are better saved for a private conversation.”
“This is as private a talk as we can have until this mission is complete,” grumbled Forseth. “When word goes wide that issues were not resolved between the kingdoms, things could turn ugly. Farmers and merchants will feel that promises were not kept. Nobles will be hard pressed to support their own lords and knights. Border towns in the east will feel particularly vulnerable and rebellious. You know how border towns can become in times of scarcity and threat.”
“Yes, I know well.”
“We need to be prepared for trouble, should someone seek to do harm to the envoy while we are on the road,” Forseth cautioned. “Even if we rode hard, we will need one night on the road in some inn or lord’s manor. I have a feeling the prince has never ridden hard in his life, so I’d not be surprised if we were boarding him for three nights before we are rid of him.”
Nisero looked about to be sure none of the others were within earshot. “I understand. If we fear unrest, should we leave a compliment of the Guard within the capital?”
“We need to protect the prince.” Captain Forseth spoke a little louder than Nisero thought was appropriate.
“I understand, sir. I was thinking in terms of the primary charge of our charter in protecting the King.”
“I hear your point, but I need you by my side with all the men in this mission. Now more than ever.”
“Yes, sir, of course.”
Captain Forseth kicked his mount’s haunches and rode forward. He passed the attendants louder than they exp
ected and they exchanged startled looks with one another.
Nisero edged back closer to the crowd and endured their hands as he watched each face for signs of trouble.
Once they reached the outskirts of the capital without incident, the boys who held the reins of the packed horses for other members of the Guard were tipped with copper coins. The horses outside the city were well supplied, and not as grandly decorated as the horses included in the procession.
The attendants discarded the drapes off their horses onto the ground as if the fine cloth were nothing at all. They loaded supplies as the boys grabbed up the drapes as an additional reward far more valuable than the coins.
Nisero mounted and turned his gaze from the peasant boys to the foreign dignitaries. The prince did not seem to notice the boys any more than he would insects under the hooves of his horse. To be fair, the men of the Guard weren’t giving much more notice themselves once they had secured their horses.
Captain Forseth handed his drape off to one of the smaller boys and patted his head. Nisero watched him go and smiled. Forseth reached both hands up to the lieutenant and Nisero passed him a set of the saddlebags. The captain loaded down his horse and mounted next to Nisero.
“So far so good,” Nisero said.
Forseth rolled his eyes. “If our dandy foreign visitors would gather themselves faster, we could be on our way finally.”
Nisero looked about at the boys around them. They did not act as if they were listening, but boys always were. Then, they repeated what they heard to anyone that would listen.
The prince tilted his head and eyed both Nisero and Captain Forseth. He waited for the foreign royal to say something in either of their languages, but he merely inclined his head a fraction to the side. Nisero heard Forseth give a throaty exhale, but to his credit, he did not voice his displeasure.
Forseth nodded back and turned his attention to the complement of the Elite Guard. “Let’s away, men.”
The prince’s men gathered around him. Forseth lead part of the men forward before they followed. Nisero took up with a smaller contingent of those that remained to guard the rear.
