Of Armor And Bone

by Sean Clark

  “And how you came back from the dead when you were supposedly killed by our mage here.” Terren taunted.

  “You will stay silent!” Kiaren snapped back at him. Zethurus shuffled uncomfortably outside.

  Mandabus let out a low laugh that hummed against the metal of his helmet and rattled the loose boards of the building. “There is more than one side of a story when two people come together in battle, woman.”

  “You’re ever cocky, aren’t you?” Kiaren said. “Answer my question!” She leaned down close to Mandabus’s face and attempted to make eye contact through the slits in the helmet.

  “Ask that of your mage.” He growled. “He was cocksure as all when he had me at a distance, but the second he felt the tip of my blade, his knees nearly buckled underneath him.”

  Kiaren turned around quickly to see Zethurus’ shadow shifting back and forth uneasily.

  “He’s talking nonsense.” The mage seethed. “He will continue to talk you in circles so that he may avoid us cracking away at him.”

  Mandabus let out another low laugh. The hair’s on Kiaren’s scalp stood on end. “Mage, is it true that you fought this knight in particular?”

  Terren leaned outside at the mage and grabbed at his sleeve. Up his left arm under the cloak were long bandages wrapped tightly around a seeping wound. “Sister, he was struck it seems.”

  “You continue to lie to me, Zethurus!” Kiaren snarled.

  “Even so, you must believe my words! It was this man whom I struck down, even through the pain he inflicted!” The mage spat. “I remember clearly the movements of his attacks; it is the same man who cowardly attacked this settlement with his guard!”

  “I believe I understand the situation now, for both of you.” Kiaren said, curling up her lips. “This armored juggernaut Xiandol has created, able to withstand not just physical blows, but magic as well. Yet, while others died trying to stop him, slow him down, you fled at the first sign that your life was in danger!”

  “Mage!” Mandabus roared. “You know what happened then! Do not continue to omit those details that will tell your commander of your true nature!”

  “Enough!” Kiaren paced around the chair, mulling her thoughts. “If nothing else, my forces fought back out of self-defense- even this mage, it seems. Yet your blood-lust knows no bounds. Why did you return here? Was the amount of destruction you caused not enough?”

  “I seek only the head of your mage.” Mandabus muttered. “Offer his life to me, and you shall never have to deal with me again.”

  “Our men’s lives are not your playthings, knight.” Terren announced.

  “Even a fiend like you should have some honor.” Kiaren hissed. “You simply want to hunt down the one that got away.”

  “If you knew what dark powers that man holds, you would have his head on the block at this moment!” Mandabus roared.

  Outside, Zethurus attempted to pace away slowly, only to by topped by Terren’s hand wrapping around his shoulder. “Where do you think you’re sneaking off to?” The sub-commander whispered.

  Kiaren leaned down and placed her hands on Mandabus’s shoulder and attempted to look once again into his eyes. “If I were that naive… what reason do I have to believe you?”

  “It seems that even your foolish mage is unaware of the extent of his actions. Allow me to remove my helmet, and you shall gaze upon my visage.” Mandabus uttered.

  Kiaren stood up and patrolled around the chair silently one last time. She gazed that the runes smeared on the armor, and the heavy gauntlets tied behind the back of the seat. “My men will not hesitate to subdue you if you decide to try something foolish.”

  With a whip of her fur coverings, she extracted a knife from her waistband and used it to cut away at one section of rope binding Mandabus’ wrist.

  The suit of armor sat up slightly as the knight lethargically lifted his hand to the helmet. Terren poked his head in the doorway to see Mandabus slip off the helmet.

  Kiaren gasped and held her nose. With pursed lips, she looked down upon the skeletal figure. Bits of dirty hair clung to the fleshbare cranium, clumped in yellowing bits of epidermis. Tiny beige maggots ran their way through the remaining flesh at the cheeks and lips of the skull, and the blank eye sockets glared into oblivion.

  With a single motion, Mandabus returned the helmet to his head. A low sound akin to a breath rattled the room. “Do you understand now what happens when strange powers meet?”

  “Zethurus!” Kiaren stomped outside, teeth bared. Upon seeing the cowering mage, she grabbed at his collar and lifted him off the ground. “To know that the mage with whom we trust our lives has done such a thing! You will be hung up before the court of Tulefore for the use of blasphemous magic!”

  Zethurus pulled fruitlessly at Kiaren’s tightly grasped fists. “You fool of a woman!” He cried. “He is trying to deceive you! In no manner could I have caused such a thing! It is unthinkable!”

  “And yet you decided to flee and hide nonetheless!” Kiaren said, shaking him back and forth.

  Inside the hut, there was a loud crash of the chair’s legs breaking and tumbling to the floor. Mandabus had toppled the chair back, causing it to shatter at its weak points.

  Terren pushed through the doorway as Mandabus got to his feet. The sub-commander struck the knight with his shoulder, but the weight of the armor and the body inside took the impact, sending Terren flying to the ground.

  Kiaren tossed the mage to the side with a loud cry before retrieving the dagger from her waistband once again. Sluggishly, Mandabus marched over Terren and out the doorway. His eyes met once again with those of the commander.

  The two stopped in place to stare each other down at several nearby guards gathered around, swords drawn.

  “That armor is keeping your soul intact, inside there.” Kiaren declared.

  “I may die in peace if the one who did this to me loses his life as well.”

  “You are a poor warrior if you cannot accept the repercussions of heading off to battle, bizarre magics or not.” The commander held firm.

  “There is no honor in living like this, a dead man trapped inside of the shell of a suit of armor. I will kill every last person who gets in between me and that mage.”

  Kiaren stroked the handle of the dagger between her fingers. “I should like to kill him myself, but then I would be no better than you! The Order will have to decide what to do with his utter bastardization of their code.”

  “Unless that means his death, I cannot have it.”

  Zethurus had crept back against the adjacent building. Behind Mandabus, Terren had stood back up to further entrap him in the ring of people. “You are an enemy of Tulefore!” Kiaren shouted, not letting her guard down. “The killing of our men will not go unpunished. Were you a normal being, you would have been executed long ago. However, our circumstances our different. Tell us what you know of Xiandol’s forces- if there are more with equipment like yours- and we shall let you leave.”

  “You have my sword, and you have my target.”

  “You leave empty-handed.” Kiaren redoubled.

  “Are you prepared to take part in a standoff of this nature?” Mandabus roared. The soldiers around the commander trembled.

  “Tulefore can send us more men, supplies, magi. We are no so far from our homes, like Xiandol.”

  Mandabus braced his legs underneath him and quickly sent his arm back, making contact with Terren’s midsection. The sub-commander crumpled as the air was knocked from his lungs. Kiaren shunted forwards with her group of soldiers as Mandabus snatched up Terren in his arms, the man’s head posed between his palms. “I may be in a weakened state, but I have just enough power to break this man’s neck.”

  The commander whispered back to one of her men poised just behind her. “Go retrieve my weapon. Alongside the bed in my quarters.”

  “That will not help you!” Mandabus cried as the lone soldier sprinted away. “That weapon you possess. Its more than just a simple blad
e of steel… none too different from my own.”

  “Release him.” Kiaren shouted. She and the soldiers on either side of her scuffled their feet anxiously.

  “This man is… your right hand, I suppose?” Mandabus posed, digging the metal fingertips of his gauntlet against Terren’s tender throat. The captive man flinched as his feet dangled, his heels tapping fruitlessly against the metal armor behind him.

  “Anything Xiandol could want, we will offer.” Kiaren ground her teeth. “Just allow that man to go.”

  “I do not speak for Xiandol or care for its needs.” Mandabus roared. He shook violently at Terren’s body. “You know my wishes. Offer up to me your mage, and there shall be no other blood shed here.”

  “Just as you are not sworn to Xiandol, I am not of the Order. Yet, I still wish to see Zethurus brought to justice by them!” Kiaren attempted to reason. “And you are no judge!”

  “Executioner, then.” Mandabus laughed. With a dull crack, he twisted Terren’s head between his gauntlets. The man flopped to the ground limply as Mandabus quickly turned to the tall wall behind him.

  Kiaren and her men leapt forward just in time for Mandabus to bound up to the height of the fence, wedging his arm between the carved logs. With another yank, he pulled himself up and over, landing with a metallic thump onto the dirt below.

  In the commotion, the soldiers attempted to follow him over, to no avail. “Go around! Follow him!” Kiaren ordered. “Grab horses if you must!”

  In all directions, the men ran off, leaving Kiaren and a few others behind. “Brother…” The commander sobbed, kneeling down to the body that had fallen face-first into the dirt. “That man, and all of Xiandol, have made a true enemy in Tulefore this day.”

  Zethurus skulked behind the hut, peering around the corner at the commander coddling her fallen family member.

  “Mage!” Kiaren cried out behind her. “I will see to it that you are judged with great prejudice for allowing a monster like that man to exist as well!”

  Chapter Fourteen: Coldfront

  The evening brought a cold front in from the west, turning the moisture sitting atop the roofs of the Xiandolan settlement into crystals of frost. Kensley shot up from his bed, hearing the echo of cries outside. The cold air clung to his bare shoulders as he peered out the window above his cot.

  The daylight had yet to show itself. In the dim torchlight outside, the perfectly aligned formation of soldiers posed with their swords in defensive positions. Kensley yanked a fur covering off the hook on the wall and fumbled around in the low light searching for his shoes. A cold draft crept in under the doorway and across his feet. He shivered as his toes found the tender leather interior of the flimsy boots.

  Holding his arms, Kensley closed the door lightly behind him and wandered out to look upon the formation still mid-training. Boughlin stood at the head of the group, miming directions to them, as Edrian looked on.

  “This is quite early, is it not?” Kensley mumbled as he approached the general.

  “This time, or not at all.” The general grumbled. “Else we risk being seen by Tuleforian spies. Imagine what we would forfeit should they know of these fresh forces.”

  “I can’t imagine.” Kensley interrogated. “What exactly would we forfeit? You’ve kept us at arm’s length ever since we returned.”

  Edrian folded his arms behind his back before letting out a long sigh that produced a wispy cloud of condensation. “I’ve already said too much. You will be informed when the need is there.”

  “Sir, with all due respect, I must wonder if you would take this same stance if I were Mandabus… the captain, sir.”

  Edrian frowned and looked at Kensley out of the corner of his eye. “You are a born leader, I’ve seen, just as much as that man. But leadership isn’t the only thing important in waging a war.”

  “A war, sir?” Kensley hummed and looked back out at the men. Their arms had been put away just as the light of the day had begun peeking over the tips of the crag. “Should I remind you that we left the Tuleforian settlement in no shape to mount a counter attack any time soon.”

  “Exactly.” Edrian grumbled. “Tulefore is a vast empire, strong. Nothing to take lightly. This land is their home front. But chip away at the base of any boulder, and it will eventually crumble.”

  “S-Sir-” Kensley stuttered as the general began marching back up in the direction of the crag where his tent was erected. The formation of soldiers had split, and the men had slowly begun returning to their quarters.

  The sunlight had begun to trickle past the eastern face of the mountain. Kiaren marched down the hillside with the plank carrying her brother’s body balanced on her shoulder, the other end held by Shiloh.

  The old mass funeral pyre had long since stopped smoldering, but the ground still smelt of musty and rancid ash. The commander and her bodyguard slowly lowered the plank of wood down to the ground. Terren’s body was wrapped neatly in a thick layer of woven cloth. “If I may speak freely…” Shiloh hesitated.

  “You know you do not need to ask that from me, Mister Shiloh.” Kiaren nodded.

  “I just…” The man fumbled. “I can’t help but feel regret for not being at your side then. It pulls at my heart.”

  Kiaren wandered a few steps and began to pick at the pile of logs set out for the lighting of the fresh pyre. “Do not blame yourself. I requested that you run drills with the soldiers so that they may be prepared in the case of another attack. After all, I trust you just as much as I did my brother.”

  “I appreciate your words, Ma’am.” Shiloh murmured and began arranging the long, dry timbers around the body. “I hope you do not blame yourself either.”

  Kiaren stood up and stretched her back. “I… I am prepared to do what I must to make sure the involved parties are brought to justice. Whatever that may mean.”

  “You may speak candidly with me, Ma’am.” Shiloh noted.

  Kiaren silently stacked the logs in a square pattern, before moving to the end of the plank. Her eyes met with Shiloh’s to signal for them to lift it atop the readily waiting pyre.

  The commander pulled a small dark piece of flint from the pouch at her side before scraping it against her dagger, showering the canvas-wrapped body in sparks. After a few more strikes, small lines of smoke began to creep up from the fabric, eventually turning into growing embers and licking flames. Kiaren stepped back, dragging her feet across the blackened ground.

  “I will destroy that knight myself, even if it will take all my brute force.” Kiaren seethed calmly.

  “You don’t intend to send another search party after him, do you?” Shiloh folded his arms and shifted out of the pillar of smoke that had begun to trail off into the air.

  “No, that would be a fool’s errand.” The commander grumbled. “Besides, I doubt we’ve seen the last of him here at the base of this mountain. That sword of his is still at my bedside. There is Zethurus, too.”

  “What do you intend for the mage?” Shiloh asked ambiguously.

  “Magi have laws of their own that they must follow. He’s obviously broken one of them.” Kiaren turned away and looked out to the north. The dark clouds in the distance had begun to block out some of the sun’s rays, and a cold wind blew past them. “Not to mention his grievous lies and deceit. I would want nothing more than to bring him justice myself but… according to the treaty, we must offer him to The Order to be judged. If I would not send him to Arkyan myself, the royal court would be implored to do so.”

  “He should be sent as soon as possible.” Shiloh insisted. “It’s imperative someone accompany him to ensure he doesn’t stray from the path.”

  “And that someone may testify to what he’s done. We must send a letter by hawk to Arkyan to notify them of his coming arrival. Then, first thing tomorrow morning… I want for you to set off with him there.” Kiaren turned to the body guard.

  “I can’t allow that, Ma’am.”

  “It’s a request, but I can make it an orde
r.” The commander stared him down. “You’re one of the few I can trust to do this now.”

  “Even more so why I should remain by your side here!” Shiloh waved his arms.

  “The sooner you leave with him, the sooner you may be back here. Look at the storm brewing. Not even Xiandol would be so bold as to try anything at this time.”

  Shiloh stared down at his boots, before looking over at the flame beginning to consume the pyre. Tiny flakes of snow had begun drifting in from the wind coming down off the mountain, before melting in the blink of an eye in the heat of the blaze. “I shall go.” He mumbled. “For the meantime, let us return so that we may sit down for once and eat a halfway proper meal.”

  Kiaren broke a half smile, the likes of which had not been seen in days. “Are you ordering me?”

  “Requesting, ma’am.”

  Chapter Fifteen: A Summons

  It was mid-day, and the sun had disappeared from the sky, leaving only hints of its existence at the edges of the dark clouds. With dirty fingers, Scarborough shoveled the gray paste that once was potatoes into his mouth. A lone snowflake landed in a smear of mash inside the wooden bowl. The skinny man pulled his arms in close by his sides as he scooted the round of wood closer to the fire.

  “And I finally thought spring had come.” Bently remarked, looking up from his lunch towards the sky.

  By dinner, a layer of snow had coated the settlement. The frigid weather had driven everyone inside, save Kensley who had donned the suit of armor in order to more comfortably wait guard outside the general’s hut. He could slowly feel the melting clumps of snow congeal and freeze into ice atop the cold metal of the armor, cracking each time he moved a centimeter.

  In the still of the falling snow, a faint flapping of wings drew nearer. Kensley tensed, listening closely for the sound. A small animal fluttered in the air around him, before taking a perch on the edge of the tent’s entranceway. The lieutenant turned his head up to get a look at the small white and black speckled owl, who stared down at him and taunted with the clicks of its beak. On its leg was tied a small scroll of wound-up paper.