Post by Kaison of Larris on Apr 6, 2008 7:42:51 GMT -5
This is a short story told from the point of view of Astor, it is however long, if you don't have the time to read it or just can't be bothered the basic idea is that six months ago the Eslantian army invaded Astoria, mainly because their leader, Cairon, is mad, his wife was killed by assassins and he blamed the death on his best friend and comrade in arms, Astor. He returned to his homeland and gathered an army striking at Astoria, at first it seemed to go well for Astoria, but one cold, wet afternoon the army was trapped in a pass, Astor knew vital information about the army of Eslantia and the armies of the other provinces in Ariafrost, as well as wanting revenge Cairon badly needed that information if his war was going to be successful. Astor traded his life for two years of peace in Ariafrost, so far Cairon has stuck to his word and will continue to do so. Where do you stand? Solider? Assassin? Smith? Spy? Hunter? Chief? Or even the Warlord himself? You could play a vital role in the fate of Ariafrost, for good or ill, you decide.
We are cut off from the back by the enemies that had pretended to be our allies, to the sides were two sheer cliff faces, the enemy have placed archers on top of the ridges, ready to pick off our men like flies. Dead ahead is the bulk of their army, two wings of cavalry that flank three legions of men, behind that was at least one cohort of archers. This doesn’t seem fair, after all we have done, all we have fought and died for, we are going to be slaughtered here like animals, and the men know it. I can see it in their eyes, in their stances, in the muttered prayers to the heavens; they are all looking to me, their Commander, for guidance, a way out, only there is none. My eyes, made sharp from years of training, assess the situation in one sweep, it is hopeless, there is no way we can win, only take as many of the bastards with us as we cam. My eyes a deep emerald green glaze over slightly as my gaze fixes on the enemies banner, beneath is my best friend, the man who had been so much more than a comrade, we had been brothers in arms, we had saved each others lives more times than I can count, or would like to, in the years we had been together. There he was, standing at the head of the army, a traitor and most certainly not the man I had respected and admired, a betrayer to all we had both held dear. He was going to die today if that was all I managed to accomplish before I died.
"Commander?"
I turn, by blood red hair in deep contrast to my eyes, my armor is heavy, we have fought our way, at the cost of many lives, into a trap, with no hope of escape, or victory. There are many tiny scraps and cuts littering my body, none that are life threatening but at that moment, when my mind was momentarily taken off the battle, the pain was very bad, I curse under my breath I look up at the one who had spoken, it was my second, a young man, but with a natural talent for the battlefield, he would have gone far, had the situation allowed I would have ordered him to take some of the men and leave, as the case is, we are all at gods mercy, we had better make our peace with the gods, for we will be joining them soon. Judging by the determined and slightly frightened look in his eye, he had drawn the same conclusions I had.
"Yes Lieutenant?"
I answer, my voice clear and sharp, with all the authority of one who had spent a lifetime shouting orders across a corpse strewn battleground, a man who at this moment in time had nothing to loose and everything to gain. With a small grimace of pain I turn to look at the enemy, I reverse my opinion, any attempt to attack would be countered swiftly, we won't even be able to scratch the front lines, we will be mown down by archers before we get close, and the information I carry will die with me, that is what the enemy want, for me to die before I could pass on what I know. This is what I want to prevent at all costs. The king has to know what I know, it was essential to the survival of not just the empire, but the survival of our entire race. My head throbs, it is one of the downsides to being an Empath I suffer from migraines, and this tends to make me very irritable most of the time. I shut down my power; I have to focus on what my second is telling me,
"- archers would be useful, we only have two sections left, but placed in the left bank, they could prove very useful.."
He trails off as he catches the dangerous glare that I am focusing on him, it is the no nonsense look that tells him that it is over, this is not the time to fight, the look of disbelief I see is quickly replaced with one of anger, what could we possibly offer them, we have nothing they want or need, wrong. Very wrong. We have one thing that the Warlord would give anything to get. Me. Or more to the point, the information I carry, the superior knowledge of the armies of Ariafrost, I even know his army better than he does. Warlord. Overlord. Murderer. Traitor. Brother and Comrade.
"Bring a white cloth; make it large, the side of one of the medical tents should do."
I say quietly so only he can hear, the men would never agree to what I was planning, I look at my second, my eyes beg him to just follow orders, he did as bid, I watch him hurry off, bellowing orders, the men did as he commanded, sure that this was all part of some incredibly elaborate hoax that their Commander had cooked up, I am sorry to say that it is not. With the white banner of truce ready, I hesitate before throwing my sword onto the ground, it isn't even my sword, mine had fallen when my horse had been cut down from underneath me, this was one I had picked up off the floor, its previous owner, most likely lying on the ground, surrounded by the dead or dying, crow meat. My daggers joined it on the floor, I pull off my helm and run a hand through my sweat lathered hair, the day had been long, I had been fighting for over ten hours and was exhausted and looked it. I pause to gather my wits, I call for a horse, I took the white flag from my second, before vaulting into the saddle, all my survival instincts scream for me to stop, but I can not, this was for my men, if we fought now, we would all die, this way, I would be taken, I might not even die for a while, perhaps I might even get a chance to pass on my information, though I doubt it.
"Lead the men, they answer to you now, see that you get them safely out of this mess, or so help me you will live to regret it, have I made myself clear?"
I didn't wait for an answer, I kick my heels into the horses’ belly, urging it forward, one hand gripping the reins, the other, holds firmly onto the flag of truce, of peace, I hope that Cairon had not fallen so low as to ignore the rights that every man has, a chance for life. I pace the horse forwards at a walk, stopping in the middle of no-mans land, I pull on my last reserves of energy, driving the flag into the ground, as I wait I glance up at the sky, it is overcast with grey cloud, it was the kind of day that leads you believe it was going to rain, but does not instead it remains dank and dark all day. A good day to end this. I peer at the enemy lines, watching with a grim smile as the officers of the Eslantians scurry to and fro, getting their orders from the traitor himself. A warning shot is fired from one of the archers, he was evidently good because it comes within two paces of the horse, it dances nervously to the side, and I jerk hard on the reins, commanding stillness. A party of five riders gallop hard across the terrain, they draw to a halt a stones throw from my position, I notice that Cairon is not amongst them, he always had been a coward at heart. Suddenly I was tired, tired of being betrayed, tired of fighting to survive, tired of wondering if I would be alive to see the next dawn, I dig in my heels, the horse shoots forward several paces,
"I demand to speak to the heartless rogue that invades my homelands!"
I yell, causing the front two rider's mounts to prance back in alarm. I am aware that the only way I was going to win here was to use cunning and to be bold, I wasn't going to let these riders walk all over my home, not whilst I had breath in my body,
"The Overlord Cairon does not design to converse with the enemy, he will hear your demands, before he decimates your army."
My heart swells in anger at these words, I was tempted to gallop back to my own lines and wage war on these cowardly dogs, but then my men would be massacred, I could not allow that if it had been in my power to prevent it. I pause before saying calmly,
"Ride back and tell him that I will surrender myself to him, in return he has to withdraw his army and return home, he will not invade this year, nor' the one after that."
I know that is a tall order, but the stakes are high, time to see how badly Cairon wants this information, time to see how far he is willing to go. I close my eyes briefly, I see the five riders return to their own lines, I narrow my eyes, they are returning, this time Cairon is with them, I pull myself together, I may be down, but I am most certainly not out. As the horses drew to a stop I wondered where all this had started, where sheer ambition had turned into outright madness, I didn't have to look very far, I knew where it had all started, it had been the day his wife had died...
She had been the flower of the Eslantian Empire, and I had been charged with her protection, I had failed. It had been a bright Spring's morning, she had been relaxing in the Rose room, ignorant of the assassin that had been waiting for me to leave her side, and leave it I did, she ordered me to go and fetch her butler, as she wished to visit her mother and father in the city, I, feeling a little ill-used, went off to find the butler, then I sensed, using my powers, the hatred and fear of the assassin, I rushed as fast as I could for two miles, across the palace grounds, but by the time I burst, exhausted into the room, it was too late. I saw her, lying in the floor, surrounded by a pool of her own blood, Cairon was on the floor beside her, their son was nearby, overcome with grief, I had failed. Myself and the guards behind me sank to our knees out of respect for her. Now in death she looked at peace, she looked radiant, even though the angel had already collected her soul, bound for heaven for sure. Cairon went mad for a time, he blamed his wife’s death on me, a blame I readily deserved, that very night he disappeared, I assumed he had gone to deal with his grief, I never suspected he would turn traitor and return to his blood routes, one day I knew he would have to return and be Overlord, but I assumed, wrongly, that he would not take up his sires ambition of ruling the world. Within a matter of months he was riding at the head of a massive army to invade my home, I have never felt as betrayed and alone as I did then, I knew that Cairon blamed me for the death of his wife, but as I proved that night I did all I could, yet it wasn't good enough, I am to blame. I am a monster. I will accept any punishment that comes my way, I deserve it, nothing is bad enough to cover for my sins. I deserve to die the most painful death that Cairon can think up, and perhaps in the end, I don't doubt that is what will happen.
I look deep into the eyes of my once friend, and to my horror, a horror that only showed for a brief second, I see nothing that would remind me of the man I had considered to be the one that I would have gladly trusted with my life the anger that I see in his glare forces me to look away, Then things get bad, I thingy my head slightly to one side, straining to catch the orders he is giving his second, I am ready to bolt the horse if he doesn't give the right one, here I glance at his second, a man that has the look of a sly, cunning ferret, here was one not to cross, frowning slightly I realize that had things worked out differently I might have held that position, not that we would ever had ridden to war, his motive for going to war in the first place was to seek revenge on those that he thought had killed his wife, to seek revenge of me, well now he had it.
"Withdrew the archers and call the bulk of the army back, tell the rear fighters to get back on their little boats, we're going home, no arguments, if you want to keep your head that is."
I slump slightly in relief, I straighten again almost immediately, now I had to concentrate of surviving, once again I meet his gaze, my powers as an empath, making me flinch as I sense his anger, his confusion, his hatred. I hold his gaze, letting him see the guilt that had been my life since he had left ten months ago, I had lived a half life since, I had been promoted to the right arm of the king, Knight protector and honored member of the Royal Guard, yet all the titles had held no meaning for me, the one title I longed for, the title of friend, had been denied to me, I had lost my own family when I had been about five to a bout of fever that had left the country crippled. I had been thrown into an orphanage until I was old enough to join the army and I had never left, it was here I had met the young crown prince, from then on, he had been the brother I had never had, my life was whole, his face was a mask, allowing nothing to show, well he should be good at it, I taught him after all, shortly after we met he had marveled at my ability to allow nothing to show, being an empath, it was one my talents, I taught him, clearly to well.
"Bring him, tie him to a horse, if he gets away your life will not be worth living, don't use rope, he'll be out of those in five minutes, or wait, is that an insult to his talent? Use one of the iron manacles..."
He twirls the horse and begins to trot smartly towards his troops, I am pulled roughly from the saddle, I glance back at my men, goodbye for now, I'll be back, by god I will, the very gates of hell will not stop me, goodbye my country maybe I will return in better times, I think desperately, I catch one last look before they start to pull me towards enemy lines, I endure the verbal abuse rather easily, actually some of the things are rather funny, 'murderous barbarian' is one of the more amusing ones, after all they are the ones invading my homeland, not the other way around. The irons that are clamped around my
wrists are tight, the scratches that litter my body are hurting, I am so tired, so very tired, Cairon will want answers as soon as we get back to his stronghold, he will find me a hard bone to break, after all he was the one that taught me to withstand pain and torture, we went through all that together when we had been captured by desert nomads, I remember that at the time he had been rendered unconscious, due to a rather nasty hammer blow to the head, as well as numerous wounds all over his body, including a deep scratch on his left forearm, whilst he had been dead to the world, I most certainly was not, it was not an experience that I would ever wish to repeat, attempting to escape a hostile enemy camp, with a half dead friend, in the dead of night, with no weapons and what felt like the whole camp after us, I still have no idea how I got us out of that mess alive.
I'm not sure how long it will take for my men take the news of my capture back to the king, too long I am sure. Listening to the chatter of the soldiers around me I am struck by how different they are to my own men, for example, they are much better armed and trained, the Eslantians are known for their military, thoughtfully and with a creeping sense of dread I know that had today turned out any different, we would have been fighting these men now. They take me to a tent, somewhere in the centre of the camp, chained to a post, well that will not hinder my escape, I have gotten free from much worse, Cairon knew what he was doing though, these manacles are very tough, re-enforced iron, no visible keyhole and on top of that it looked as though we will be moving on sometime in the middle of the night, my own men would already have left
leaving a few sentries to make sure the army left my homeland. Sinking to the floor, I close my eyes briefly, my armor, the same that I had worn for three years now, is now a burden, heavy, hot and covered in blood, not all of it my own. I sigh taking in my surroundings without an great fervor, the guards will have followed Cairon’s ordered to the last full stop, are they really that afraid of him? In the few months since our parting, has he gone truly mad? He can't have forgotten the friendship we had shared, can he? I think about his son, Kaison, he had been clever and intelligent for his age, with a knack for getting into trouble, the guards used to draw straws to see who would be unlucky enough to guard the boy, he had been getting very good at evading the guards, perhaps he saw his fathers madness, even if the empire didn't. I allow myself to rest god forbid I need it, tomorrow will be a long day, it is a long way back to the capital city of the Eslantian empire, I assume that is where they will be taking me.
I am roused sometime in the middle of the night, I blink blearily and gather my bearings, I am untied and am half pulled out of the tent, I catch sight of a half dismantled camp, nobody seems in any mood to move very fast, I assume I will be going on ahead, Cairon will want answers. Cautiously I take a look at the manacles, the lantern that the guard is holding up allows me to see that the too circles are welded together, it is a interested design, another piece of information, should I ever make it make home to tell the king of all I have seen, heard and done. I eye the horse they want me to ride with apprehension, it doesn’t look as though it will last the first mile, sighing I swing myself into the saddle, judging by their disgruntled faces they expected me to be unable to comply with the most simply of wishes with my hands tied, quite honestly it is insulting. I hide a small smile, I have three guards behind me, three guards in front of me and three both sides, Cairon is evidently not taking any chances where I am concerned. My hands were tied to the saddle, it was hard going for the first few miles but after that I settled into a rhythm, at last I manage to drift off in the saddle, despite my fears the horse has turned out to be resilient and well up to the many miles we are traveling. I awake with a jerk, my muscles protesting, the tiny scrapes writhing with a familiar agony. I feel the sharp pain that jerked me awake and notice despondently that the sharp metal of the manacles have cut into my right wrist, shifting slightly I blink and glance up at the sky, almost midday. Glancing around I note that we have crossed the border, I am now in Eslantian territory, fresh drops of blood fall from the wound, it isn’t painful but no matter how I move the metal always seems to be catching the wound, that is painful,
“Good Morning Commander, welcome to Eslantia”
I twist around, my gaze focusing on Cairon, blinking the last of the dust out of my eyes, my gaze falls, I can’t look at his face, it brings back to many memories, I have to be strong if I’m going to survive this, no weaknesses. I pause slightly before responding, turning my horse to face Cairon side on, my gaze still fixed on a point a few centimeters above his head I answer,
“Good? What’s good about it? Does the sun never shine in your blasted country?!”
Not the most subtle of answers but it bought a faint smile to Cairon’s lips, I always had been blunt to the point of rudeness, in that moment I remembered what it had been like, if only Isabella hadn’t died, that had been the turning point,
“Not often, no. In time I have come to realize that the sun doesn’t have to shine to shed light on Eslantia, it’s actually quite beautiful depending on how you look at it.”
I grit my teeth together, one of the things we had agreed on several months before he left, the fact that Eslantia was ugly, out of all the lands in Ariafrost it held the least beauty, but then again that had also been the day that we had thought that our friendship could endure anything and everything. I considered his words, they didn’t sound like his, but then again it was like he was different person now.
“The way I see it is hardly attractive, floods, hurricanes, and a featureless, barren plain, why, how do you look at it?”
I glance at him once, that is enough, his eyes blaze with anger, that I had dared insult his homeland, he pauses for a moment, his eyes glazed, as if he is seeing me, as a friend once again, a friend that is hungry, tired, thirsty and in pain, then his gaze steels and he gives me a dismissive sniff and says calmly,
“We’ll see who’s insulting who when we arrive at Bellicarnus, I can assure you, you will eat those words.”
I give a small snort of indifference, it doesn’t matter to me anymore, and I look across the wasteland, trying not to think about the future, it will be bad enough without my supposing.
We don’t break camp that night, instead we ride on through the night, I slumber briefly in the saddle, and no doubt I won’t have a chance to rest for a while after tonight. As the sun shows her rays over the horizon, I catch my first sight of Bellicarnus, it is magnificent, a great fortified city, the flag of Eslantia, flying proudly from the central tower, the sight doesn’t fill me with warmth, as it does the men around me, it fills me with dread, I look up and catch Cairon watching me, I look away a shiver runs down my spine, yesterday I swore I would kill that man, know it looks like I won’t even be able to save myself. After that everything is a bit blurry, men run this way and that, the great golden gates are opening, I am pulled from the horse. I hold my head high, my blood red hair is tossing in the wind, the people of Bellicarnus line the streets, welcoming the army home, I am marched through the streets, I take the stares levelly, children hide beneath their mothers skirts, men look down from my gaze, even defeated I still hold the power of an empath, the cheers pound in my head, I give my head a small shake, a migraine pounds my head, all these people… But I will not collapse, not here; I have to represent Astoria, even though I come as prisoner not diplomat.
Cairon disappears, I am forgotten, no one seems sure what to do with me, I catch sight of Kaison, skirting the edges of the crowd, he catches sight of me, on my knees hands tied behind my back, witch is then tied to a wooden post, taunts come my way, men spit as they pass me, I endure the odd stray kick and shove. Kaison cries out and rushes to my side, the jet black hair and icy blue gaze marking him of royal blood; he is looking more like his mother every day.
“Astor? What’s going on, has father gone mad? What has he done to you?”
He is almost hysterical; soldiers that had rushed forwards to stop the crown prince are stopped by one glare. Kaison touches my wounds lightly, anger and disbelief cloud his face, I peer through a haze of pain, as my headache lessens I begin to see him properly.
“Aye, it is me, Cairon gone mad...? I can not honestly answer that question…as to what he has done, nothing as of yet…”
I raise my head, blood dripping from the numerous wounds on my body, has now dried, the only wound that still remains open is from the cruel icy bite of the manacles. I manage a small smile for the boy, he was always bright and intelligent, and he got all that off his mother. Once I would have been glad to have seen him grow up to be like his father, now I wish he had never clapped eyes on him.
“This is madness, I would speak to father but…oh Astor it’s awful, father won’t even see me anymore, after I told him he was stupid to go to war…what are you doing here? Why were you foolish enough to be caught?”
I listen in stony silence, Cairon won’t even see the boy anymore? This has gone too far, I would stop it if I could, but my hands are tired, literally. I sigh and watch as Kaison’s eyes fill with angry tears, I can not comfort him, but in my mind I clasp his shoulder and look down on him with protective eyes.
“Better go lad, don’t want to anger your father, things are bad enough as they are”
I speak gently but the words seem to jolt him awake, he looks at me, silently willing me to fight back, to shout, scream, kick, anything. In the end, he gets up and stalks after his father, no doubt the tell him just how big a failure he is, I know it won’t get me anywhere, but at least it might give Cairon cause to think. After the initial few hours, I am remembered again, one of the clerks happens to walk past and throw the guards who have taken it upon themselves to guard me curious looks, unluckily for me he asks them why I haven’t been brought before the Great Warlord Cairon yet. My armor is removed, with a great deal of regret I look up at the sky, one last time, I don’t think I will breathe fresh air for a while yet. I a now dressed in the plain linen of a solider, my long red hair pulled back in a warrior braid, my only weapon my tongue. I am escorted into the thrown room, nobles line the walls, young men with swords strapped to their sides leer at me unpleasantly, however the older men, who know what it is to be a prisoner of war, greet me with respectful nods, I incline my head briefly, I glance around, no women, but then again this is Eslantia, they treat their women like slaves. I stand before Cairon, looking down at me, dressed in ceremonial armor, gold and jewels covering every inch of his body. He pauses, the malicious delight in his eyes shows how long he has waited for this moment.
“Nobles of the great houses of Eslantia, I bring before you, a traitor to the Royal bloodline, Astor Myceni, Commandant of the army of Astoria, charged with the murder of Isabella Charity, how do you plead?”
I consider my choices briefly, the nobles chatter ceased as soon as Cairon began speaking, the odd hushed whisper is all that I hear, I open my mouth, lick my dry lips, my head held proud and I say clearly,
“Innocent, I was not present at the time of Lady Isabella’s death, as you know.”
Murmurs break out across the throne room, the familiarity of my tones indicating that I am more than just a commandant, some of the older men remember and pass the word around, the traitor that didn’t intervene with Lady Isabella’s death! The man that had sworn to protect queen and country, here in Eslantia!
“Ah but neither did you do anything to stop it, isn’t that as bad…? Nobles, what is your verdict?”
I give a grim smile, this is hardly a trial, the men here are all loyal to Cairon, to their very last breath, of that I am sure, all that remains is what my sentence will be.
“Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!”
The shouts bound of the walls, well there was a surprise, guilty, of killing the woman I loved as a sister, if she were here now…well if she were here now I wouldn’t be in this mess.
“What is your sentence, Great Cairon?”
I glance at the man who has spoken, my lip curls slightly, Cairon’s right hand man, he had been present on the battlefield, I turn my gaze back to Cairon, focusing my gaze on a point several centimeters above his head,
“Hmmmm, well lets see, murderer, traitor and spy, I think the only fitting punishment would be death…however, Commandant Astor here has great knowledge, he knows more about our army than we do, shall I tell you how he knows that?”
I raise my head higher, preparing for the insults and the anger, Cairon stands up his royal blue cloak falling around his shoulders,
“He is a spy. He is also an empath and a seer, he can see into the minds of men more clearly than the average magic user can, he has traveled far and wide, and is a close friend of the King of Astoria. I propose we…extract this information from him, before sending his head back in a matchbox to the King…but of course we will need at least two years to prepare for a war against Ariafrost, plenty of time, what say you?”
I listen intently, sly fox, he has not revealed the bargain he struck with me, instead he acts as though the situation is entirely of his own creation, I mull over his words, the nobles are set on fire by his words, the younger nobles are baying for my blood, the older ones shouting curses, several just sit, the more intelligent, looking at me half respectful half angry, these are the ones to watch, they would die for their country, unlike these old men and patriotic youths.
“Now, you will kneel.”
It takes me several heartbeats to realize he is talking to me, this shocks me, I should have expected this, but that is just it, it is so…unexpected. I never bowed to him, not ever, it was common knowledge that Cairon was not one to stand to ceremony, I bring my gaze down to meet his eyes and say clearly,
“No”
He raises an eyebrow as if he wasn’t expecting it, the nobles see this as an insult, Cairon’s gaze sweeps the crowd and he shoots me a cruel smile, he knows I will never knees, this is all for show, to get the nobility all riled up and ready to tear the throats out of the Astorian army.
“You will kneel before me, now!”
I meet his gaze with a grin he knows to well, the look of determination in my gaze is the age old look of one who will not be shifted,
“No I won’t”
A vein pulses at Cairon’s temple, he gestures to the guards that stand behind me, I glance behind me in time to receive the blow to my stomach that sends me sprawling, I am jerked into a kneeling position, my stomach aching like mad, my ribs jerk, I hope they aren't broken, but then again that might hasten death to my door, I look up at Cairon, eyes filled with hate, pain, grief and something resembling loathing, I know I have years to foster this hatred, but he knows he has only made me kneel, I will never do it out of free will, at least not yet. I am dragged to my feet, this time the nobles are not respectful, blows come my way from all sides, as I am shoved towards the dungeons.
I remain here several months later, the pain of the various ways Cairon has tried to make me talk, stalk my dreams, lack of food, water and sleep haunt my waking hours, the anger is still there, and I know that I will soon be brought before him again, this time I wonder if I will have the strength to resist. I have not seen Kaison since the day I arrived, however I am fairly sure he is around and about, he has tried to see me several times, but the guards on my door are all fiercely loyal to Cairon. I have however, through the guards that grow bored and like to boast to the once great commandant, heard that the Eslantian army is bigger than ever before, that the whole of Ariafrost, even united will not be able to stand in the way of it. I have given some thought to escaping, when I am left alone I have plenty of time to think. I don’t think I will confide in any man the horrors I am subject t to down here, I am ashamed to say that I hope my screams fall of deaf ears, even now as I collapse chained to the wall of a murky cell, longing for water, I like to think I still hold some dignity in the fact that I haven’t told them anything of worth. Occasionally, when the pain grows too bad, I scream out the odd word or sentence, it stops the agony, at least for a while. I hope to god that Ariafrost will unite against the Eslantians, if not then the whole world is doomed, doomsday, I look out of the barred window, it lets so little sunlight in, and wonder if I will live to see the next dawn.
Astor of Myceni
War Commandant of Asturia
War Commandant of Asturia
We are cut off from the back by the enemies that had pretended to be our allies, to the sides were two sheer cliff faces, the enemy have placed archers on top of the ridges, ready to pick off our men like flies. Dead ahead is the bulk of their army, two wings of cavalry that flank three legions of men, behind that was at least one cohort of archers. This doesn’t seem fair, after all we have done, all we have fought and died for, we are going to be slaughtered here like animals, and the men know it. I can see it in their eyes, in their stances, in the muttered prayers to the heavens; they are all looking to me, their Commander, for guidance, a way out, only there is none. My eyes, made sharp from years of training, assess the situation in one sweep, it is hopeless, there is no way we can win, only take as many of the bastards with us as we cam. My eyes a deep emerald green glaze over slightly as my gaze fixes on the enemies banner, beneath is my best friend, the man who had been so much more than a comrade, we had been brothers in arms, we had saved each others lives more times than I can count, or would like to, in the years we had been together. There he was, standing at the head of the army, a traitor and most certainly not the man I had respected and admired, a betrayer to all we had both held dear. He was going to die today if that was all I managed to accomplish before I died.
"Commander?"
I turn, by blood red hair in deep contrast to my eyes, my armor is heavy, we have fought our way, at the cost of many lives, into a trap, with no hope of escape, or victory. There are many tiny scraps and cuts littering my body, none that are life threatening but at that moment, when my mind was momentarily taken off the battle, the pain was very bad, I curse under my breath I look up at the one who had spoken, it was my second, a young man, but with a natural talent for the battlefield, he would have gone far, had the situation allowed I would have ordered him to take some of the men and leave, as the case is, we are all at gods mercy, we had better make our peace with the gods, for we will be joining them soon. Judging by the determined and slightly frightened look in his eye, he had drawn the same conclusions I had.
"Yes Lieutenant?"
I answer, my voice clear and sharp, with all the authority of one who had spent a lifetime shouting orders across a corpse strewn battleground, a man who at this moment in time had nothing to loose and everything to gain. With a small grimace of pain I turn to look at the enemy, I reverse my opinion, any attempt to attack would be countered swiftly, we won't even be able to scratch the front lines, we will be mown down by archers before we get close, and the information I carry will die with me, that is what the enemy want, for me to die before I could pass on what I know. This is what I want to prevent at all costs. The king has to know what I know, it was essential to the survival of not just the empire, but the survival of our entire race. My head throbs, it is one of the downsides to being an Empath I suffer from migraines, and this tends to make me very irritable most of the time. I shut down my power; I have to focus on what my second is telling me,
"- archers would be useful, we only have two sections left, but placed in the left bank, they could prove very useful.."
He trails off as he catches the dangerous glare that I am focusing on him, it is the no nonsense look that tells him that it is over, this is not the time to fight, the look of disbelief I see is quickly replaced with one of anger, what could we possibly offer them, we have nothing they want or need, wrong. Very wrong. We have one thing that the Warlord would give anything to get. Me. Or more to the point, the information I carry, the superior knowledge of the armies of Ariafrost, I even know his army better than he does. Warlord. Overlord. Murderer. Traitor. Brother and Comrade.
"Bring a white cloth; make it large, the side of one of the medical tents should do."
I say quietly so only he can hear, the men would never agree to what I was planning, I look at my second, my eyes beg him to just follow orders, he did as bid, I watch him hurry off, bellowing orders, the men did as he commanded, sure that this was all part of some incredibly elaborate hoax that their Commander had cooked up, I am sorry to say that it is not. With the white banner of truce ready, I hesitate before throwing my sword onto the ground, it isn't even my sword, mine had fallen when my horse had been cut down from underneath me, this was one I had picked up off the floor, its previous owner, most likely lying on the ground, surrounded by the dead or dying, crow meat. My daggers joined it on the floor, I pull off my helm and run a hand through my sweat lathered hair, the day had been long, I had been fighting for over ten hours and was exhausted and looked it. I pause to gather my wits, I call for a horse, I took the white flag from my second, before vaulting into the saddle, all my survival instincts scream for me to stop, but I can not, this was for my men, if we fought now, we would all die, this way, I would be taken, I might not even die for a while, perhaps I might even get a chance to pass on my information, though I doubt it.
"Lead the men, they answer to you now, see that you get them safely out of this mess, or so help me you will live to regret it, have I made myself clear?"
I didn't wait for an answer, I kick my heels into the horses’ belly, urging it forward, one hand gripping the reins, the other, holds firmly onto the flag of truce, of peace, I hope that Cairon had not fallen so low as to ignore the rights that every man has, a chance for life. I pace the horse forwards at a walk, stopping in the middle of no-mans land, I pull on my last reserves of energy, driving the flag into the ground, as I wait I glance up at the sky, it is overcast with grey cloud, it was the kind of day that leads you believe it was going to rain, but does not instead it remains dank and dark all day. A good day to end this. I peer at the enemy lines, watching with a grim smile as the officers of the Eslantians scurry to and fro, getting their orders from the traitor himself. A warning shot is fired from one of the archers, he was evidently good because it comes within two paces of the horse, it dances nervously to the side, and I jerk hard on the reins, commanding stillness. A party of five riders gallop hard across the terrain, they draw to a halt a stones throw from my position, I notice that Cairon is not amongst them, he always had been a coward at heart. Suddenly I was tired, tired of being betrayed, tired of fighting to survive, tired of wondering if I would be alive to see the next dawn, I dig in my heels, the horse shoots forward several paces,
"I demand to speak to the heartless rogue that invades my homelands!"
I yell, causing the front two rider's mounts to prance back in alarm. I am aware that the only way I was going to win here was to use cunning and to be bold, I wasn't going to let these riders walk all over my home, not whilst I had breath in my body,
"The Overlord Cairon does not design to converse with the enemy, he will hear your demands, before he decimates your army."
My heart swells in anger at these words, I was tempted to gallop back to my own lines and wage war on these cowardly dogs, but then my men would be massacred, I could not allow that if it had been in my power to prevent it. I pause before saying calmly,
"Ride back and tell him that I will surrender myself to him, in return he has to withdraw his army and return home, he will not invade this year, nor' the one after that."
I know that is a tall order, but the stakes are high, time to see how badly Cairon wants this information, time to see how far he is willing to go. I close my eyes briefly, I see the five riders return to their own lines, I narrow my eyes, they are returning, this time Cairon is with them, I pull myself together, I may be down, but I am most certainly not out. As the horses drew to a stop I wondered where all this had started, where sheer ambition had turned into outright madness, I didn't have to look very far, I knew where it had all started, it had been the day his wife had died...
She had been the flower of the Eslantian Empire, and I had been charged with her protection, I had failed. It had been a bright Spring's morning, she had been relaxing in the Rose room, ignorant of the assassin that had been waiting for me to leave her side, and leave it I did, she ordered me to go and fetch her butler, as she wished to visit her mother and father in the city, I, feeling a little ill-used, went off to find the butler, then I sensed, using my powers, the hatred and fear of the assassin, I rushed as fast as I could for two miles, across the palace grounds, but by the time I burst, exhausted into the room, it was too late. I saw her, lying in the floor, surrounded by a pool of her own blood, Cairon was on the floor beside her, their son was nearby, overcome with grief, I had failed. Myself and the guards behind me sank to our knees out of respect for her. Now in death she looked at peace, she looked radiant, even though the angel had already collected her soul, bound for heaven for sure. Cairon went mad for a time, he blamed his wife’s death on me, a blame I readily deserved, that very night he disappeared, I assumed he had gone to deal with his grief, I never suspected he would turn traitor and return to his blood routes, one day I knew he would have to return and be Overlord, but I assumed, wrongly, that he would not take up his sires ambition of ruling the world. Within a matter of months he was riding at the head of a massive army to invade my home, I have never felt as betrayed and alone as I did then, I knew that Cairon blamed me for the death of his wife, but as I proved that night I did all I could, yet it wasn't good enough, I am to blame. I am a monster. I will accept any punishment that comes my way, I deserve it, nothing is bad enough to cover for my sins. I deserve to die the most painful death that Cairon can think up, and perhaps in the end, I don't doubt that is what will happen.
I look deep into the eyes of my once friend, and to my horror, a horror that only showed for a brief second, I see nothing that would remind me of the man I had considered to be the one that I would have gladly trusted with my life the anger that I see in his glare forces me to look away, Then things get bad, I thingy my head slightly to one side, straining to catch the orders he is giving his second, I am ready to bolt the horse if he doesn't give the right one, here I glance at his second, a man that has the look of a sly, cunning ferret, here was one not to cross, frowning slightly I realize that had things worked out differently I might have held that position, not that we would ever had ridden to war, his motive for going to war in the first place was to seek revenge on those that he thought had killed his wife, to seek revenge of me, well now he had it.
"Withdrew the archers and call the bulk of the army back, tell the rear fighters to get back on their little boats, we're going home, no arguments, if you want to keep your head that is."
I slump slightly in relief, I straighten again almost immediately, now I had to concentrate of surviving, once again I meet his gaze, my powers as an empath, making me flinch as I sense his anger, his confusion, his hatred. I hold his gaze, letting him see the guilt that had been my life since he had left ten months ago, I had lived a half life since, I had been promoted to the right arm of the king, Knight protector and honored member of the Royal Guard, yet all the titles had held no meaning for me, the one title I longed for, the title of friend, had been denied to me, I had lost my own family when I had been about five to a bout of fever that had left the country crippled. I had been thrown into an orphanage until I was old enough to join the army and I had never left, it was here I had met the young crown prince, from then on, he had been the brother I had never had, my life was whole, his face was a mask, allowing nothing to show, well he should be good at it, I taught him after all, shortly after we met he had marveled at my ability to allow nothing to show, being an empath, it was one my talents, I taught him, clearly to well.
"Bring him, tie him to a horse, if he gets away your life will not be worth living, don't use rope, he'll be out of those in five minutes, or wait, is that an insult to his talent? Use one of the iron manacles..."
He twirls the horse and begins to trot smartly towards his troops, I am pulled roughly from the saddle, I glance back at my men, goodbye for now, I'll be back, by god I will, the very gates of hell will not stop me, goodbye my country maybe I will return in better times, I think desperately, I catch one last look before they start to pull me towards enemy lines, I endure the verbal abuse rather easily, actually some of the things are rather funny, 'murderous barbarian' is one of the more amusing ones, after all they are the ones invading my homeland, not the other way around. The irons that are clamped around my
wrists are tight, the scratches that litter my body are hurting, I am so tired, so very tired, Cairon will want answers as soon as we get back to his stronghold, he will find me a hard bone to break, after all he was the one that taught me to withstand pain and torture, we went through all that together when we had been captured by desert nomads, I remember that at the time he had been rendered unconscious, due to a rather nasty hammer blow to the head, as well as numerous wounds all over his body, including a deep scratch on his left forearm, whilst he had been dead to the world, I most certainly was not, it was not an experience that I would ever wish to repeat, attempting to escape a hostile enemy camp, with a half dead friend, in the dead of night, with no weapons and what felt like the whole camp after us, I still have no idea how I got us out of that mess alive.
I'm not sure how long it will take for my men take the news of my capture back to the king, too long I am sure. Listening to the chatter of the soldiers around me I am struck by how different they are to my own men, for example, they are much better armed and trained, the Eslantians are known for their military, thoughtfully and with a creeping sense of dread I know that had today turned out any different, we would have been fighting these men now. They take me to a tent, somewhere in the centre of the camp, chained to a post, well that will not hinder my escape, I have gotten free from much worse, Cairon knew what he was doing though, these manacles are very tough, re-enforced iron, no visible keyhole and on top of that it looked as though we will be moving on sometime in the middle of the night, my own men would already have left
leaving a few sentries to make sure the army left my homeland. Sinking to the floor, I close my eyes briefly, my armor, the same that I had worn for three years now, is now a burden, heavy, hot and covered in blood, not all of it my own. I sigh taking in my surroundings without an great fervor, the guards will have followed Cairon’s ordered to the last full stop, are they really that afraid of him? In the few months since our parting, has he gone truly mad? He can't have forgotten the friendship we had shared, can he? I think about his son, Kaison, he had been clever and intelligent for his age, with a knack for getting into trouble, the guards used to draw straws to see who would be unlucky enough to guard the boy, he had been getting very good at evading the guards, perhaps he saw his fathers madness, even if the empire didn't. I allow myself to rest god forbid I need it, tomorrow will be a long day, it is a long way back to the capital city of the Eslantian empire, I assume that is where they will be taking me.
I am roused sometime in the middle of the night, I blink blearily and gather my bearings, I am untied and am half pulled out of the tent, I catch sight of a half dismantled camp, nobody seems in any mood to move very fast, I assume I will be going on ahead, Cairon will want answers. Cautiously I take a look at the manacles, the lantern that the guard is holding up allows me to see that the too circles are welded together, it is a interested design, another piece of information, should I ever make it make home to tell the king of all I have seen, heard and done. I eye the horse they want me to ride with apprehension, it doesn’t look as though it will last the first mile, sighing I swing myself into the saddle, judging by their disgruntled faces they expected me to be unable to comply with the most simply of wishes with my hands tied, quite honestly it is insulting. I hide a small smile, I have three guards behind me, three guards in front of me and three both sides, Cairon is evidently not taking any chances where I am concerned. My hands were tied to the saddle, it was hard going for the first few miles but after that I settled into a rhythm, at last I manage to drift off in the saddle, despite my fears the horse has turned out to be resilient and well up to the many miles we are traveling. I awake with a jerk, my muscles protesting, the tiny scrapes writhing with a familiar agony. I feel the sharp pain that jerked me awake and notice despondently that the sharp metal of the manacles have cut into my right wrist, shifting slightly I blink and glance up at the sky, almost midday. Glancing around I note that we have crossed the border, I am now in Eslantian territory, fresh drops of blood fall from the wound, it isn’t painful but no matter how I move the metal always seems to be catching the wound, that is painful,
“Good Morning Commander, welcome to Eslantia”
I twist around, my gaze focusing on Cairon, blinking the last of the dust out of my eyes, my gaze falls, I can’t look at his face, it brings back to many memories, I have to be strong if I’m going to survive this, no weaknesses. I pause slightly before responding, turning my horse to face Cairon side on, my gaze still fixed on a point a few centimeters above his head I answer,
“Good? What’s good about it? Does the sun never shine in your blasted country?!”
Not the most subtle of answers but it bought a faint smile to Cairon’s lips, I always had been blunt to the point of rudeness, in that moment I remembered what it had been like, if only Isabella hadn’t died, that had been the turning point,
“Not often, no. In time I have come to realize that the sun doesn’t have to shine to shed light on Eslantia, it’s actually quite beautiful depending on how you look at it.”
I grit my teeth together, one of the things we had agreed on several months before he left, the fact that Eslantia was ugly, out of all the lands in Ariafrost it held the least beauty, but then again that had also been the day that we had thought that our friendship could endure anything and everything. I considered his words, they didn’t sound like his, but then again it was like he was different person now.
“The way I see it is hardly attractive, floods, hurricanes, and a featureless, barren plain, why, how do you look at it?”
I glance at him once, that is enough, his eyes blaze with anger, that I had dared insult his homeland, he pauses for a moment, his eyes glazed, as if he is seeing me, as a friend once again, a friend that is hungry, tired, thirsty and in pain, then his gaze steels and he gives me a dismissive sniff and says calmly,
“We’ll see who’s insulting who when we arrive at Bellicarnus, I can assure you, you will eat those words.”
I give a small snort of indifference, it doesn’t matter to me anymore, and I look across the wasteland, trying not to think about the future, it will be bad enough without my supposing.
We don’t break camp that night, instead we ride on through the night, I slumber briefly in the saddle, and no doubt I won’t have a chance to rest for a while after tonight. As the sun shows her rays over the horizon, I catch my first sight of Bellicarnus, it is magnificent, a great fortified city, the flag of Eslantia, flying proudly from the central tower, the sight doesn’t fill me with warmth, as it does the men around me, it fills me with dread, I look up and catch Cairon watching me, I look away a shiver runs down my spine, yesterday I swore I would kill that man, know it looks like I won’t even be able to save myself. After that everything is a bit blurry, men run this way and that, the great golden gates are opening, I am pulled from the horse. I hold my head high, my blood red hair is tossing in the wind, the people of Bellicarnus line the streets, welcoming the army home, I am marched through the streets, I take the stares levelly, children hide beneath their mothers skirts, men look down from my gaze, even defeated I still hold the power of an empath, the cheers pound in my head, I give my head a small shake, a migraine pounds my head, all these people… But I will not collapse, not here; I have to represent Astoria, even though I come as prisoner not diplomat.
Cairon disappears, I am forgotten, no one seems sure what to do with me, I catch sight of Kaison, skirting the edges of the crowd, he catches sight of me, on my knees hands tied behind my back, witch is then tied to a wooden post, taunts come my way, men spit as they pass me, I endure the odd stray kick and shove. Kaison cries out and rushes to my side, the jet black hair and icy blue gaze marking him of royal blood; he is looking more like his mother every day.
“Astor? What’s going on, has father gone mad? What has he done to you?”
He is almost hysterical; soldiers that had rushed forwards to stop the crown prince are stopped by one glare. Kaison touches my wounds lightly, anger and disbelief cloud his face, I peer through a haze of pain, as my headache lessens I begin to see him properly.
“Aye, it is me, Cairon gone mad...? I can not honestly answer that question…as to what he has done, nothing as of yet…”
I raise my head, blood dripping from the numerous wounds on my body, has now dried, the only wound that still remains open is from the cruel icy bite of the manacles. I manage a small smile for the boy, he was always bright and intelligent, and he got all that off his mother. Once I would have been glad to have seen him grow up to be like his father, now I wish he had never clapped eyes on him.
“This is madness, I would speak to father but…oh Astor it’s awful, father won’t even see me anymore, after I told him he was stupid to go to war…what are you doing here? Why were you foolish enough to be caught?”
I listen in stony silence, Cairon won’t even see the boy anymore? This has gone too far, I would stop it if I could, but my hands are tired, literally. I sigh and watch as Kaison’s eyes fill with angry tears, I can not comfort him, but in my mind I clasp his shoulder and look down on him with protective eyes.
“Better go lad, don’t want to anger your father, things are bad enough as they are”
I speak gently but the words seem to jolt him awake, he looks at me, silently willing me to fight back, to shout, scream, kick, anything. In the end, he gets up and stalks after his father, no doubt the tell him just how big a failure he is, I know it won’t get me anywhere, but at least it might give Cairon cause to think. After the initial few hours, I am remembered again, one of the clerks happens to walk past and throw the guards who have taken it upon themselves to guard me curious looks, unluckily for me he asks them why I haven’t been brought before the Great Warlord Cairon yet. My armor is removed, with a great deal of regret I look up at the sky, one last time, I don’t think I will breathe fresh air for a while yet. I a now dressed in the plain linen of a solider, my long red hair pulled back in a warrior braid, my only weapon my tongue. I am escorted into the thrown room, nobles line the walls, young men with swords strapped to their sides leer at me unpleasantly, however the older men, who know what it is to be a prisoner of war, greet me with respectful nods, I incline my head briefly, I glance around, no women, but then again this is Eslantia, they treat their women like slaves. I stand before Cairon, looking down at me, dressed in ceremonial armor, gold and jewels covering every inch of his body. He pauses, the malicious delight in his eyes shows how long he has waited for this moment.
“Nobles of the great houses of Eslantia, I bring before you, a traitor to the Royal bloodline, Astor Myceni, Commandant of the army of Astoria, charged with the murder of Isabella Charity, how do you plead?”
I consider my choices briefly, the nobles chatter ceased as soon as Cairon began speaking, the odd hushed whisper is all that I hear, I open my mouth, lick my dry lips, my head held proud and I say clearly,
“Innocent, I was not present at the time of Lady Isabella’s death, as you know.”
Murmurs break out across the throne room, the familiarity of my tones indicating that I am more than just a commandant, some of the older men remember and pass the word around, the traitor that didn’t intervene with Lady Isabella’s death! The man that had sworn to protect queen and country, here in Eslantia!
“Ah but neither did you do anything to stop it, isn’t that as bad…? Nobles, what is your verdict?”
I give a grim smile, this is hardly a trial, the men here are all loyal to Cairon, to their very last breath, of that I am sure, all that remains is what my sentence will be.
“Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!”
The shouts bound of the walls, well there was a surprise, guilty, of killing the woman I loved as a sister, if she were here now…well if she were here now I wouldn’t be in this mess.
“What is your sentence, Great Cairon?”
I glance at the man who has spoken, my lip curls slightly, Cairon’s right hand man, he had been present on the battlefield, I turn my gaze back to Cairon, focusing my gaze on a point several centimeters above his head,
“Hmmmm, well lets see, murderer, traitor and spy, I think the only fitting punishment would be death…however, Commandant Astor here has great knowledge, he knows more about our army than we do, shall I tell you how he knows that?”
I raise my head higher, preparing for the insults and the anger, Cairon stands up his royal blue cloak falling around his shoulders,
“He is a spy. He is also an empath and a seer, he can see into the minds of men more clearly than the average magic user can, he has traveled far and wide, and is a close friend of the King of Astoria. I propose we…extract this information from him, before sending his head back in a matchbox to the King…but of course we will need at least two years to prepare for a war against Ariafrost, plenty of time, what say you?”
I listen intently, sly fox, he has not revealed the bargain he struck with me, instead he acts as though the situation is entirely of his own creation, I mull over his words, the nobles are set on fire by his words, the younger nobles are baying for my blood, the older ones shouting curses, several just sit, the more intelligent, looking at me half respectful half angry, these are the ones to watch, they would die for their country, unlike these old men and patriotic youths.
“Now, you will kneel.”
It takes me several heartbeats to realize he is talking to me, this shocks me, I should have expected this, but that is just it, it is so…unexpected. I never bowed to him, not ever, it was common knowledge that Cairon was not one to stand to ceremony, I bring my gaze down to meet his eyes and say clearly,
“No”
He raises an eyebrow as if he wasn’t expecting it, the nobles see this as an insult, Cairon’s gaze sweeps the crowd and he shoots me a cruel smile, he knows I will never knees, this is all for show, to get the nobility all riled up and ready to tear the throats out of the Astorian army.
“You will kneel before me, now!”
I meet his gaze with a grin he knows to well, the look of determination in my gaze is the age old look of one who will not be shifted,
“No I won’t”
A vein pulses at Cairon’s temple, he gestures to the guards that stand behind me, I glance behind me in time to receive the blow to my stomach that sends me sprawling, I am jerked into a kneeling position, my stomach aching like mad, my ribs jerk, I hope they aren't broken, but then again that might hasten death to my door, I look up at Cairon, eyes filled with hate, pain, grief and something resembling loathing, I know I have years to foster this hatred, but he knows he has only made me kneel, I will never do it out of free will, at least not yet. I am dragged to my feet, this time the nobles are not respectful, blows come my way from all sides, as I am shoved towards the dungeons.
I remain here several months later, the pain of the various ways Cairon has tried to make me talk, stalk my dreams, lack of food, water and sleep haunt my waking hours, the anger is still there, and I know that I will soon be brought before him again, this time I wonder if I will have the strength to resist. I have not seen Kaison since the day I arrived, however I am fairly sure he is around and about, he has tried to see me several times, but the guards on my door are all fiercely loyal to Cairon. I have however, through the guards that grow bored and like to boast to the once great commandant, heard that the Eslantian army is bigger than ever before, that the whole of Ariafrost, even united will not be able to stand in the way of it. I have given some thought to escaping, when I am left alone I have plenty of time to think. I don’t think I will confide in any man the horrors I am subject t to down here, I am ashamed to say that I hope my screams fall of deaf ears, even now as I collapse chained to the wall of a murky cell, longing for water, I like to think I still hold some dignity in the fact that I haven’t told them anything of worth. Occasionally, when the pain grows too bad, I scream out the odd word or sentence, it stops the agony, at least for a while. I hope to god that Ariafrost will unite against the Eslantians, if not then the whole world is doomed, doomsday, I look out of the barred window, it lets so little sunlight in, and wonder if I will live to see the next dawn.