Battle of lindly, p.4
Battle of Lindly, page 4
He laughed and sprinted into the stream. He dove headlong in the deceptively deep water. Cool and refreshing, he loved the water. Especially when the rains would come. He would often sneak out in storms to swim in the rain. He continued to swim down deep, holding his breath. Making certain he held himself low and unseen below the waterline. A few moments passed and Serin watched. Worry slowly crept up into her mind, so she moved closer to the brim of the river. “Aris?” Her eyes scaled the water. “Aris! Come on!” She stepped in a bit, looking for him as she hiked up her dress, which doubled as pants. The appearance being a dress when she walked normally but split into pants. This made it easier for her to be a lady of the city, but also gave her the ability to be the carefree spirit of an adventurer. She had them specially made for herself. As she tiptoed further in, her fear had set in completely. “Aris Tin, you come out right now!” The water current moved, and she saw something deep was swimming fast to her. Too late did she understand that Aris was tricking her, and that she was trapped. She let out a little shriek as she fled back to shore. Aris popped from behind and dragged her down. Under the water, she squirmed and he held her tight. She couldn’t escape, so she went limp. He leaned into her, kissing her underneath the water. Her eyes were closed as she embraced the kiss. The moment they emerged from the water, Aris' blue eyes opened; she opened hers. They stared for a few heartbeats, each taking the moment to look into the other’s beautiful eyes, but more clearly they saw each other’s souls. In that moment they knew that no one would ever come between them. He smiled, she smiled, and he hoisted her up and towards the shore. They sat there for a long moment, at the edge of the stream watching the water moving. His hand lay on top of hers this time. This friendship between the two was something neither would ever forget. No matter how far, no matter how long the time would be, both knew it was forever. They dared not to speak the words marriage or family someday. Both thought about it. They were young and had their lives ahead of them. However, how much better would it be together? It was the most normal life children could have in a world that forced everyone to grow up fast or be crushed. The two were interrupted by the sound of her brother approaching. His personal guard yelled to make way as they headed to Victus' home.
“Well, I will see you when you get back Aris Tin, squire of House Andreas.” She beamed, giving him a quick hug and another peck on his lips. “Be safe. I have to hurry back. I have embroidery with Vela.” Her face disfigured in disgust and boredom, thinking about how tedious it was. She leaped up, very soaked. “I will have to change, too.” Running off, she yelled back to him. “Have fun and be safe!”
The only words he knew she heard were “Bye. Thank you for the necklace.” Though he had said more to her, it was rather quiet. He mulled over the words he had uttered and shook his head. Speaking to himself and to her, though she was gone. “I love you Serin. Now and forever.” Staring in the direction she had gone, he stood watching until he could see her no longer. “Now and forever.”
6
Brandan paraded himself through the streets as if he was emperor of the universe but he was the son of the city of Lindly’s steward, Nibarn. He would have his personal guard shout as he passed every street, “Make way for Lord Counsel Brandan of House Neske.” Outside of Victus, he was the most well-known citizen of rank. Or at the very least, the most seen. He was lengthy, like his father, with his hair pulled back in a ponytail. His angular jaw combined with his smile made most female humans swoon. Even the elves would give him a second look when they saw him, often wondering how his features could be so elf-like but still be human.
The young man had grown up in wealth, and he knew how to spend it. However, his management of the city’s treasury five years ago almost caused the city to fall into bankruptcy. Victus had taken on a tutor-like role with the twenty-five-year-old man but, Brandan never wanted more out of life than fun. He did, more so in the past year, understand the responsibilities laid upon him. Even if he was not enthusiastic about the work for the city, nor successful, he did care for the city and its people.
Brandan paraded around town with his advisers, guards, and with litter bearers for his lady of the week. The city knew he was all pomp and bark, but they played along with it. Regular citizens often came towards an area he was traveling near and they did this because at least once a week, he would invite a family to a dinner party. He chose them on a whim and hosted a splendid little party for them. They even left with gifts, well beyond their earnings. Overall, this clod was their clod, and he was kind to them. As far as the town was secure and businesses ran efficiently, the townspeople had no major complaints.
The intermittent town murders were a blight upon both houses, Neske and Andreas. The citizens of Lindly were aware of a cult operating within the city walls. However, most of the public’s knowledge was hearsay and rumors. What they understood was that the murders were cultish in nature, being devoted to one of the vilest of demi-gods, Lestar. The murders appeared to be random folk sacrificed and bodies were never discovered until the rituals were far concluded. The unwilling participants were reported missing, and this would lead to a gruesome body found. Sometimes strung from a tree, other times a well, light posts, and even in the forum. It had become common practice to just carry on after the murders, as this had been happening here from the time Desa and her husband were murdered. Every year, it was only a few and mostly overlooked the deaths. It was something Victus had not let slip from his view and was actively pursuing, with the aid of his trusted soldiers.
The council under Nibarn had no interest in the investigations, nor did any member of House Neske. But for Victus, unraveling this enigma of a cult was a personal vendetta. Other than this, the town’s other endeavors yielded positive returns. Even to the extent of being one of the most profitable cities in Asmolor’s kingdom.
Aris heard another shout from the House Neske guard, closer this time. He knew Brandan was near his house and he hurried back to the horses. Watching and waiting from the path, stopping the horses, he saw his father open the door, waiting to greet Brandan and his entourage. He knew his father did not care for the fanfare, but would respectfully play along. Especially considering Brandan technically out-ranked his father. Victus smiled over at Aris briefly, his gaze quickly returning to the sound of Brandan’s approach. Young Aris followed his father’s gaze. He saw the flowing banners of House Neske. The golden fringes, and ocean blue backdrop made from the finest linen. Embroidered in maroon upon the cloth was a sand-glass and a fore-staff precursor to a sextant. Aris began thinking about House Neske, remembering it was once a mighty sea-faring family and they were the first humans to survey all the seas. House Neske was a proud clan in its heyday, as were most of the older human houses. Most of the noble houses of humankind suffered loss of life in the wars and mistreatment from the other races. Humans, being versatile and resilient, still had many houses remaining, but they were far from the glory they had once achieved. It was admirable that Neske, and through that Nibarn, Brandan and Serin had clung onto their roots so deeply. Many of the old houses had either collapsed or reinvented themselves into new houses. For the few that still adhered to their heritage, it became an achievement of longevity. Something all humans respected, considering the relatively brief lifespan compared to the other races. It also made it easier for such a house to garner followers to support their leadership in a town.
Aris snapped from his rumination as the guard shouted outside the gate.
“I present, Lord Counselor Brandan of House Neske. Seeking audience with Commander of Chevaliers Victus Tiber Andreas.” The house guards moved from their square formation, parting into two columned lines alongside the cobblestone path. The herald stepped aside, moving behind the tall man, Brandan.
Victus was moving down the path towards him. Upon reaching Brandan, the young man reached out to embrace him. Victus, however, stopped and saluted. Brandan never remembered all the protocol that he tried to imbue. Quickly, his hands went down and then to his chest as he spoke, embarrassed. “Yes, thank you, commander.” He stepped towards Victus and offered a hand instead. Victus squeezed the young man’s hand. “You leave today, no?” Brandan inquired, motioning towards the home.
“Yes we do. As soon as we are finished here,” Victus replied.
Brandan turned back towards his guards, his eyes drifting to see the young boy staring, holding horses. Turning back to Victus as he spoke. “Was your son pleased about the council’s decision?”
Victus chuckled, “Of course. It is an honor.”
Brandan smiled, touching his chin, “Sometimes, agreeing with you- over my father,” he rolled his eyes, “and his sycophantic politicians is the right thing to do. I never understood why they were all so opposed to the lad becoming a squire. It is clear by the testimony of all three directors of mysteries, war and theology that he was well beyond his current placement. I have never understood my father.” The young man’s anger was flaring for a moment, “But at least I was able to get it approved. Happy day for the Andreas House, nay?” He smacked Victus’ shoulder and awkwardly laughed, not knowing if he had displeased the commander with his commentary.
Victus looked firmly over to Aris. “No, it is a great day, as you say,” Commander Victus slid to the side of his door, opening it and gesturing for Brandan to walk through first, and smiling, the noble walked in.
The door closed and Aris continued to watch the guards left outside the house. He watched the commotion as a few of his father’s own guards arrived. They spoke with the House Neske guards and then moved on down the pathway, awaiting their commander, mostly chatting amongst themselves. One short stout man moved towards the stable, and Aris pretended to check the packs on the horses. He knew this man. His name was Calder. The renowned human was a hero of the siege of Geoar, when the city shut its gates to prevent the onslaught of Malakas’s enraged forest folk. Calder had knocked out his commander and opened the gate to the fleeing people, saving many of Asmolor’s children and gaining respect amongst all races. He was a fun man and loved to make Aris laugh. He also had an enormous family. Thirteen children and another on the way.
Aris continued pretending he did not see the man, but turned when he heard a voice, “Hey you, old man! What man did you steal those weapons and armor from?”
Aris turned, grinning. “Must not have been much of a man if I took his weapon, let alone his armor. Mind your business, human.” Aris added a high elven inflection to his voice, mixing in the natural distaste they used when saying, human.
Calder looked him over and burst with a roar of laughter. “Oh... your tongue is quick, ol’ man. Get over here and shake my hand, squire!” Congratulating the young boy with a punch into his armor and a sturdy shake of his hand. “You have earned your place. We stand together as one.”
Aris nodded, repeating. “As one.”
Brandan had walked into the house, with a glance around the frugal home. His face shifted uneasily. “You live a very plain life, commander.”
Victus closed the door and turned to face the man. “It suits my son and I,” he replied. “Can I offer you a drink?”
Brandan, being fascinated by some of the older tapestry, responded with a nod. Then stopped himself and said, “No, no. I am afraid my stomach is unsettled. I drank a bit too much last evening.”
Victus expressed understanding, “Yes, well, you do throw splendid parties.” Victus had never stayed long at a dinner invitation from Brandan. Too much pomp, pageantry, and lick-spittles about to actually have a pleasant time. He had always preferred the company of soldiers and dwarves. Continuing, he suggested an old remedy for hangovers. “You should have your cooks boil wine with lamprey. Have them remove the less desirable parts of the fish and boil its blood in the wine. That little trick has saved a lot of us from puking our guts out. The dwarves in the south know how to throw a party. They swore by the remedy and it has always worked,” smirking, he continued. “You know, if you threw a party or ball in the dwarven fashion, I bet you would draw quite the crowd.”
Brandan found a suitable chair, dusted it briefly with his hand and sat as he mumbled, “Yes, the dwarves...” He was feeling queasy and the thought of the eel-like fish and how disgusting it looked made Brandan question internally, Was it a snake, fish or eel? Who would eat such a thing? Swallowing hard, Brandan answered Victus, “No... I think lemon water will suffice.”
Victus grinned as he moved to get him the honeyed water he and Aris had had with breakfast. Victus handed the wooden mug over to him and he sat next to the young noble. Victus sipped his own mug. “Sorry, we have only honey, no lemon.”
Brandan nodded as he drank deep. “It’s fine.”
Victus placed his glass down. “To business then?” Brandan put on a face of curtness and focus. Victus unclipped the city’s keys from his leather belt. The keys were ceremonial rather than functional. The actual power to run the city guard and whatever else needed doing in the day to day was the ornate rod of Lindly. It was the symbol of the steward’s authority, thus whoever was wielding it acted on behalf of the steward and the city. Victus never carried it around like his predecessors. But he expected and knew that Brandan would. On the table near them, encased in a medium-sized oak box, was the rod. Victus took it and placed it into Brandan’s eager, open hands. “The city is yours. The guards are yours. It is your solemn duty to safeguard all that reside in this city.”
Brandan nodded eagerly as he took up the box and flipped it open. He clenched the rod as if he was a starving man reaching for bread. He became uncomfortable as he noticed Victus staring directly into his eyes unflinchingly. “Uh... yes, I have the city. I have the guard. And all those that live in the city are under my protection.”
Satisfied, Victus rose from the chair. “I will be gone for a fortnight. If you have any problems, reach out to the capital. All trade is to continue and our gates are open to travelers. There is a contingent of high elves who will stop through next week. Nothing major, just some nobles. Other than that, you should be fine. Oh, and make sure you keep the dwarven smiths and gnome tinkerers from altering the set prices. They continue to be a nuisance. Though I believe it is less about the gold and more about getting free drinks. All under the pretense of peaceful price negotiation. You will have to loosen your purse strings and get them well oiled. Or perhaps host them in your palace.” He quipped his eyebrow and began moving towards the door. “Any questions?”
Brandan sat up from his chair, rod in hand. “No, I am ready. We will have nothing like the last time.” Self-consciously looking away from the inexorable knight as he spoke, “It will be as if you never left.”
Victus opened the door, but paused. He looked back at the young noble watching him straighten out his outfit and take another swig of his honey water. “Brandan,” Victus said softly.
“Hmm? Yes?” The young noble responded between pouring another drink.
“Look at me,” Victus said with a fatherly tone.
Brandan looked up in confusion, his face conveying a fear of the upcoming reprimand stemming from past mistakes. He swallowed as his eyes met Victus’. Instead, the commander smirked as he understood the man’s face and thus his thoughts. “Your past failures are not a reflection of who you are today. Yes, you have much to learn and work on. But the efforts you are making will someday yield a superb noble and leader. Stay on the path and each day work on yourself so that you can become what you truly desire. A man to be respected and loved. A leader who is wise and compassionate. Be encouraged, not discouraged. Hold to your duties and I thank you for your visit, even if it is just a formality.”
Brandan sighed in relief. “Thank you for saying that. I am trying.”
Victus nodded, “I know.” He pushed the door open for the young noble.
Outside, Aris listened to Calder as he spoke of his squiring years. “It was a tough lot for me. I squired for two knights and both were buffoons. Had me cleaning armor and fetching food and drinks. Wasn’t the best way to learn about soldiering.”
Aris laughed, still watching the front door. “Sounds like you were more maid than squire.”
Calder’s face crinkled in posed rage. “I was a damn excellent maid, too. Our first battle proved that I was more maid than soldier. Stood next to these knights as they were shouting commands. I felt more in the way than an actual participant. But you learn quickly or you’re dead.”
The conversation ended abruptly as the front door opened and Brandan walked through, holding the small staff of Lindly. Sighing, Calder watched the young Lord. “Oh, he is going to parade around, showing everyone how in charge he is. Pompous ass.”
Aris did not say a word, just watched. But he thought it was interesting to be a part of his father’s crew, at least officially now. Being one of them was something valuable, like being a part of an exclusive club. Of all the world’s opportunities, this was his purpose.
Brandon continued to move towards his guards who promptly began the march back through the city, with shouts now accompanied by the blowing of a large kingly horn.
“I guess he waited to blow the horns until he officially became garrison commander,” Calder said in jest. “Come, Aris, your father is motioning for us to go over with the others.”
Aris stared again as the parade marched off. “Make way for Lord Counselor of the City and Garrison!” A loud horn echoed after the shout. Shaking his head, Aris hastened to catch up with Calder. As he did though, he saw an elvish woman riding a horse. She was clearly noble, and she was moving with purpose towards Brandon’s guard. Though Aris was curious, he focused on getting to his commander, his father. Victus wanted to speak with Calder and his trusted soldiers before his departure. But the female elf lingered in his mind until his additional responsibilities as squire forced their way forward and made themselves aware that they were far more important. Moving himself behind and to the left of his father, he listened to the greetings. Waiting patiently for any command that might be given to him.
