Chapter 17

The Pious Satyr, Aithen, Eastern Realm.

The party delayed their departure for three days while Anastasia and Beriwen tended Tristan. Graydon had explained to the rest of the party about the attack and that he felt it was not an isolated incident. He went on to express his concern that perhaps the others could be targets as well. With that information in mind it was decided that the members would not leave the confines of the inn until they were ready to depart.

Graydon, accompanied by Dunin, went out to the front gates and explained the situation to Brother William and tried to persuade him to come inside the city and stay at the inn, for safety's sake. Brother William thanked them for their concern but rejected their offer, choosing to remain where he was.

The first day all Tristan did was eat and sleep, with the occasional trip to the outhouse, with either Graydon or Dunin escorting him on those outings. He had regained enough strength by the second day to be able to sit up and start complaining about being kept in bed. By the second afternoon, Anastasia relented, after conferring with Beriwen, and allowed Tristan to get up and slowly walk around his room. He had long since gotten past any embarrassment over the two ladies seeing him in nothing but a loincloth and just relished his ability to move about the room.

Anastasia had sent Dunin, with Tristan's tattered armor, to a local armorer and had new leathers made for him. She had also had his clothes sent to a tailor with instructions to make new ones. By the evening of the second day his wounds--well the physical ones--were nothing more than pale pink scars. Lightbringer had relayed through Graydon that Tristan would carry the physical scars for the rest of his life. Graydon was concerned about the spiritual scars on Tristan's soul but Lightbringer could supply no solution to that dilemma.

By the afternoon of the third day, Tristan could get around well, with only short breaks to recoup his strength. It seemed as if he fatigued easier and they hoped that would pass as he continued to regain his health. It was during a quiet time in the late afternoon during Anastasia's turn at bedside nurse that the subject of his similar sword came up.

"Tristan?" Anastasia asked innocently. "Where did you get that remarkable sword? I noticed it when I picked it up when you were hurt."

"I found it in some ruins during Graydon and my travels to Loudin," he replied. "Why?"

"I have one similar," she replied. "Given to me by my guardian and his lady love."

"Graydon explained to me what it was," Tristan replied. "He can read Elder Script and knew a little history about the sword, well swords. If you have one similar you should show it to Graydon. He named them the 'God Slayers'."

"Mine is named, Avendar, the Sword of Vengeance," Anastasia offered.

"And mine is Nemesis, the Sword of Righteous Retribution," Tristan answered the unasked question. "Do you know what the script says on yours? Graydon could translate if you do not."

"Woe to he who incurs vengeance's wrath, for I am Avendar and my strike is true"

"Well, that is pretty straightforward," Tristan replied. "Mine says, 'Woe to he who takes more than their due, for I am Nemesis and my punishment is swift, and final'."

It seems the swords leave little wiggle room," Anastasia replied and laughed.

"Oh! I just remembered," Tristan exclaimed, sitting up from the bed. "Anastasia, could you ask everyone to come to my room? I have important information to pass on."

"From where?" Anastasia asked, intrigued.

"From an old but reliable source," Tristan replied vaguely. "Will you round everyone up?"

Anastasia said she would and left his room to find the others to bring them back. She found the others downstairs in the great room just chatting about inconsequential things. Anastasia explained that Tristan had vital information and invited them to come listen to what he had to say. They all agreed and followed Anastasia back to Tristan's room and crowded around his bed, which Tristan was sitting on, fully dressed. He had taken the time alone to get dressed and refresh himself before everyone returned.

Tristan relayed the information concerning the political upheaval in the Far East, without revealing the identity of his source. His information, while incomplete, gave everyone pause and cause for concern. They decided that every morning should be spent in practice so that they would be prepared for any eventuality. It was further decided that they would forgo the day of rest that they had previously planned after shifting to Realto. Graydon assured everyone that he would be fine and could recover from the energy expended for the shift easily enough in the saddle. The main concern was Tristan's strength, or lack thereof, but he told everyone not to worry, that he was fine and would continue to improve. He was not about to be left behind.

The meeting ended with the rumbling of Graydon's stomach. He smiled a sheepish grin and suggested that everyone should retire to the great room and have dinner. Anastasia put her hand out stopping Tristan's movement toward the door.

"Where do you think you are going?" she asked, stepping into his path and crossing her arms.

"To dinner, with the rest of everyone," Tristan replied, hopefully.

"Back to bed," Anastasia ordered, pointing toward it. "I will bring your dinner up here."

"Anastasia is right, Tristan," Beriwen agreed. "You need your rest to recover the strength you will need for the trip."

"That reminds me," Anastasia announced. "I told Graydon but I would like it if everyone just called me Anna. It is what my friends call me, and I consider all of you my friends."

"All right, Anna was right, Tristan," Beriwen smiled. "Back to bed."

"But I am bored with being in bed," Tristan complained. "I want to eat downstairs with all of you."

"What did you tell me the other day about arguing with a female?" Graydon asked and smiled when Dunin started chuckling.

"Yes, You might as well come to that conclusion now and save yourself a lot of anguish later," Dunin added between fits of laughter.

"Funny," Tristan replied drolly, drawing the word out, as he turned for his bed. "Now everyone is a Minstrel."

"And you might as well get undressed, too," Anastasia added. "If you are a good boy I will bring you a glass of Elven wine."

The others left the room chuckling, only Anastasia remaining as Tristan pulled the tunic over his head. He turned back to where Anastasia was standing and stopped the process of undoing his trousers.

"I can do this part by myself," Tristan proclaimed. "And I am really hungry."

She nodded and left him, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. She stood there for several heartbeats before sighing and shaking her head.

"What is it about him?" she mentally asked as she pushed herself off the door and started down the hall towards the stairs.

Castle Daemongurd, eastern edge of the Thangdaemon Forest.

"Master! Master!" echoed throughout the second floor wing of the castle.

"Yes, Thanos," Prince Velen looked up from the scrolls he was perusing as the head of his staff entered his study.

"Master, Cale and Janna have not returned from their trip," Thanos, the head of Velen's inside staff, explained and was interrupted before he could finish. "They had gone to the village for supplies and should have been back by now. I..."

"Send someone out to look for them," Velen replied and waved his hand dismissively.

"I did, Master," Thanos replied. "We, the stable master and I, sent out two hands from the stable on horses. They found the wagon burned, and they ... and they found; Master you need to see what they found."

Velen frowned, but nodded as he rolled up the parchment he was studying. He followed his servant toward the sweeping stairway that led to the first floor and the front door, where two other servants were waiting with Velen's armor and sword.

"Thanos?" Velen asked as he allowed himself to be dressed.

"For your protection, Master," Thanos replied. "Might I suggest you bring knights."

"Thanos you are being very secretive and I do not like it," Velen replied sternly.

"My apologies, Master. They were found impaled on the side of the road," Thanos explained, head lowered. "I thought you would want to see."

"Impaled?" Velen responded incredulously. "Near the castle?"

"Not far, Master. Where the road leaves the forest."

"So, close by," Velen replied and then called out. "Captain!"

"My Prince!" a tall knight, well over six feet appeared in front of Prince Velen and knelt.

The knight was covered in full black adamantine plate armor, face covered behind a black adamantine helm fashioned after dragons. A dragon head prominent on top of the helm with wings tucked in on the sides protected the wearer's ears. A large shield bearing the Rampant Dragon heraldry of Thangdaemon was on his left arm. A large bastard sword hung in a scabbard on his left hip.

"Attend me with two of your brethren," Prince Velen commanded. "We ride!"

"As you command, My Prince!" the captain replied, rising and striking his right gauntleted fist to his chest.

Velen left the castle after his attendants were finished and started for the stables. The captain and two additional knights, identical to the captain, fell into step with the prince, just to his rear and followed him to where four horses were waiting, held by groomsmen. The horses were as identical as the knights, all warhorses, all protected behind black plate armor. The four warriors mounted and turned their horse toward the main gates, which were open. Before they left, Prince Velen ordered the stable master to send a wagon and several able bodied to retrieve the bodies.

"I will not have mine disrespected that way!"

Prince Velen ordered the gates closed once the wagon passed through and galloped off in the direction Thanos had provided. They did not wait for the wagon and left it behind.

It was not long before the forest began to thin and finally give way to a meadow when Velen called a halt. There on both sides of the highway were several bodies impaled on long poles. Near the bodies was a crudely written sign in common: 'Trespass and die'.

"Search the area for signs of who did this," Prince Velen commanded as he dismounted and began to investigate as well.

"Orcs!" a knight called out pointing to tracks leading away. "I cannot tell party strength; they run in formation."

"Captain, take a knight and start an expanding circular search to the north and east, I will take the other knight and start one from the south. Contact me if you find anything and I will do the same. And Captain, no quarter given and I want their left ear as trophy."

"As you command, My Prince!" the captain struck his chest with a mailed fist.

The captain and one of the knights mounted and began to search in the pattern directed by Prince Velen. The Prince and the remaining knight waited until the wagon arrived and the bodies were loaded. He ordered the wagon back to the castle with the two dead bodies and then he and the other knight started their search pattern.

It was several hours later that Prince Velen and his knight came across an Orc raiding part of ten strong, running in two columns to obscure their numbers. Prince Velen ordered the knight to sweep around and come in from the opposite flank and waited for the knight to get into position.

Prince Velen spurred his horse into a charge and crashed into the near side of the running column, scattering the raiding party. The Orcs quickly regrouped and charged toward Velen when the knight crashed into them from behind, breaking their line. Swords flashed in the morning light as they hewed through the Orc Raiders, leaving none alive. Velen took the time to remove the left ear of each Orc before he ordered the knight to resume their search.

Velen and his knight finally met back up with the captain and his knight near dusk several leagues east of the castle. The captain had encountered two groups of Orcs and had dispatched them, collecting ears from every Orc. Prince Velen had run across two additional groups for a grand total between both of five raiding parties of approximately 60 Orcs.

The captain had learned that the raiding parties were actually patrols sent out by a self-proclaimed king, who ruled from what was once the County of Blackvale, a city-state on the site of the old city of Calais. Prince Velen was very interested in meeting with this king and finding out whose authority these patrols were operating under. He decided that it was time to visit Blackvale.

King Neelam's throne room, city of Blackvale, Kingdom of Neelam.

Neelam was sitting on his temporary throne listening to his two Field Marshals bickering about tactics during the upcoming incursion. To his left and right were two royal guard holding halberds. Neelam looked around the audience chamber at the other attendants.

Lord Ragnar was leaning against the wall, with a bored look on his face, to Neelam's far right. Lord Tsor was standing to Neelam's immediate left with an amused look on his face, and finally there was Maoauk on the wall opposite to Ragnar, who looked like he was ready to bash the two Field Marshals' heads together. Other than those mentioned and the eight Orc guards on both sides of the aisle the room was empty.

The sound of trumpets caused everyone in the throne room, with the exception of the guard, to look toward the double doors. The doors opened and the herald stepped through and announced.

"Emissaries from Castle Daemongurd!"

The herald stepped to one side and two knights dressed in black plate armor stepped into the room, each holding the handle of a box, which swung between them. Behind the knights a man dressed in black scale mail armor followed. Ragnar recognized the man as Prince Velen and popped forward off of the wall, alert. Behind the Prince was another knight, bringing up the rear. The Field Marshals stepped to either side of the aisle as the two knights stopped in front of the throne and lowered the chest to the ground and stepped back.

Prince Velen scanned the room and was not terribly surprised to see another Thangdaemon Lord. He figured that when Belial's plans for him fell through that the Prince of Hell would look elsewhere for an ally. That the ally turned out to be Lord Ragnar was not terribly shocking since 'The Fiend', as he was known, was a personal favorite of Belial's. What Velen never understood was why the Prince of Hell did not call upon Ragnar in the first place.

"I am King Neelam and you are?" Neelam asked, leaning forward.

"The thing about being big and bad is, that eventually you run into someone who is bigger and badder," Prince Velen announced, looking around the chamber. "If your lackeys harass me or mine again, I will come back and slay everyone in this room."

Velen nodded to the knight to his right, who reached down and opened the chest, revealing the ears taken as prize. There was a sharp intake of breath and an angry bark from Maoauk.

"Someone needs to control their mutt before I take his ear as well," Prince Velen announced, staring at Lord Ragnar.

"Who do you think you are, coming into my kingdom and threatening me like that?" Neelam asked, standing and drawing Gor.

"My Lord, be very careful. This man is extremely dangerous and very powerful," the Runesword mentally cautioned.

"I believe I have already established that," Prince Velen replied and slowly shifted his gaze toward Neelam.

"This is Prince Velen, once a great warrior and prince, who died many, many years ago," Lord Ragnar interjected. "He was recently resurrected for a purpose that he chose to deny."

Decorum demanded politeness and the use of titles, but make no mistake, the two Thangdaemon Lords despised each other. Lord Ragnar viewed his prince as nothing more than a lackey to the crown of Tarra, little better than a court jester, while Prince Velen viewed Lord Ragnar as nothing more than a rabid dog, one which should be put down at the earliest opportunity.