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Lord Raven's Court

In the year 556 of the Runtallian Calendar, a war broke out in the eastern frontier of the Kingdom of Runtallia between the eastern overlord, Duke Gaverone Walruse of Regalia, and the barbarian chief-thane known as Dariun Drunzelle of the Shiradonii tribe, one of the Four Great Tribes of Norsmund, a nation that borders the Kingdom, deemed to be the land of brutes and savages. As the Duke of Regalia marches with his army to defend the disputed land of Kurlon, the barbarians have taken such an opportune moment to launch another incursion near the eastern border of Regalia near the town of Flendle, with the intention of dividing his army. However, despite accepting the town and the surrounding local lords' territories as lost cause in the war in favor of Kurlon– a newly discovered territory bountiful with veins of iron and other minerals– the Duke tasks his third son, Lord Velmund Walruse, along with his retinue, the Order of the Raven Knights, to fend off the attack. Now faced with the plight of defending the border town against a 5,000-strong Norsmundi army with his few yet skilled knights, along with an ill-equipped and undermanned militia, Lord Velmund has no choice but to fulfill his duty as a noble, relying upon his wits and his few but capable retainers to survive his first battle at the tender age of sixteen summers and winters. Contrary to his timid, youthful, and innocent appearance, however, lies his sly and scheming nature, evident by his fondness of dark magical arts specializing in illusion spells. Nevertheless, he himself has no idea of what he is capable of, and what he is destined to become. Meanwhile, further east at the frontier with Norsmund, a plot hatches to ensnare the Duke within the clutches of his treacherous vassals. Not only his life is threatened by these schemes, but his sons Theo and Varus as well. With this scheme put into motion, the Duke and Velmund's siblings, Varus and Theo, would taste fate's twisted humor, with the former meeting his demise in a blaze of glory amidst the field of battle, and the latter two vanishing in incidents shrouded by mysteries. With the death of the patriarch of Regalia and his heirs' disappearance, the young lord who was initially third in line for the succession of the ducal seat became its temporary occupant. And thus, the tale of him and his court begins… CHAPTER RELEASE: January 1st at 12:00 UTC

SlothfulChronicler · War
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181 Chs

Chapter VIII: Slavery [2]

Unmolested by the rays of the summery sun, engulfed by trees and bushes on both sides, an armed troupe continued its parade. Treading the narrow path provided by the derelict road to the city were the caravan of wagons, columns of footmen and cavalry, and an array of foreign tribesmen taken as captives. Situated at the fore of this marching assemblage was an intricate and regal carriage, harboring two conversing men, strictly ringed by several heavily armored cavaliers.

"My name is Velmund Grimuleth Walruse, third son of Gaverone Walruse, esteemed and gracious Duke of Regalia," said the adolescent voice of the young noble in an accented Norsmundi tongue. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

"I cannot say I am pleased, Lord Velmund," the forty-year-old man replied, who had a visible wound engraved upon his chest. "But I am urged by my warrior's honor to present my name to my enemy. I am known as Zallack, of the Karaksbi Clan, warrior-thane of the Celbriac Horde, and a respected he-bear warrior recognized by many. Albeit I am alive due to your mercy, many of our brothers had perished, so do not expect of me to bow down in gratitude to you for sparing my life."

"Nor would I demand it from you, Zallack Karaksbi. Would you mind if I address you Zallack."

"Do as you please, a prisoner cannot say otherwise against his captor's will, can't he? How is my kinsmen?"

"After the battle transpired, they were disarmed and restrained, yet no harm has come to them ever since. I strictly forbade violence against your people. Over a thousand of them survive, a few dozen escaped."

"I would guess that the chief-thane is dead, then? You would have not come into contact with me otherwise. I am still too weak to be ridding of the bed you provided me in town. Nonetheless, I am surprised that some of our people have evaded the slaughter." Zallack paused momentarily, seemingly tampering with the memories he lived through at his previous battle. "The sight of those abomination begets fear among our horde, I tell you. Even among brave men such as myself. I saw you enslave those beasts, commanded them to kill, and even now that I can peer upon the window of your soul, you no longer bear the innocence of a child. You yourself inspire fear within me, shame am I to admit, young lord of Regalia."

"I am no strong warrior compared to you, Zallack, even as wounded as you appear to be."

"The way of the blade is not the only way to cause fear, I am certain you know that. Your own strength relies not upon the body, but somewhere else I cannot fathom. You should know, I am a good judge of a person's character, such trait I acquired from years of experience upon the field of battle. But might I inquire the condition of the chief-thane's son, Eldric Bruglond, or am I to assume he is among the escapees? I merely awaken and have not the chance to visit my brethren."

"Indeed, I was informed of said person when I asked for your chief-thane's successor. Unfortunately, I summoned you here for he is not among the prisoners taken."

"Nonetheless, if I was not summoned here in his stead, I doubt you would form a coherent discussion with that lad. He loathes the people of your kingdom. In sooth, the reason for our involvement in the Shiradonii's campaign against Runtallia roots from the atrocious deed your people committed against many of our kin, including Eldric's sister. We would understand if your soldiers only defeated us in the battlefield, but to hurt women and children…"

"Can I know what happened to Eldric's sister?"

"Do not play coy with me, Lord Velmund. I am certain that your father at least told you what he did. That is why we were more than eager to form a coalition between our tribe and the Shiradonii and hordes under it."

"I really do not understand. I thought the reason of the war was a territorial dispute?"

"A territorial dispute? If that is what you think and you are not lying then you are gravely mistaken. If it is true you are ignorant as you claim to be, allow me to tell you a story, Lord Velmund. About a year ago, the daughter of Chief-thane Bardent was married to the leader of a vassal tribe, affiliated with the Shiradonii, in order to seal an indirect alliance. Her name was Zerah. The reason why she was not betrothed to the heir of the Shiradonii was to lessen the intervention of the other major tribes, so as to not cause friction among the Council of Four. And months after the marriage was when your soldiers came. They started burning and raiding small settlements close to the border. Men, women, children and even the elderly. Many of them perished, but many were also taken as captives. It was not too long before Zerah's husband had enough of it, and organized his horde to retaliate. To sum up the tale, he attacked the camp where hundreds of people from different tribes were held and was able to free them. However, reinforcements from the Kingdom came, and his warriors were outnumbered. Forced to a hopeless battle, the entire horde was annihilated. And do you know what they did after that, young lord? To replenish the number of captives they lost, the soldiers forced one tribesman they purposely did not kill to lead the way to the village of Eldric's sister. Everyone can guess what they did next. Thousands of innocent women, children and the elders were abducted and transported to the Kingdom. When the news arrived at our tribe, Chief-thane Bardent was outraged, so was Eldric himself. As if to spit on the graves of the fallen men of the tribe, an emissary came to us demanding a ransom for the chief-thane's daughter. Twenty thousand gold pieces was the demand. Norsmundi like us do not trade much. We hunt and plunder to survive, but unlike you we respect innocent lives. Weeks passed when we sent a reply that we had insufficient gold for the ransom, another emissary came in the form of a wounded female Norsmundi. She came with a 'gift from the Duke,' as she says. But her eyes tell otherwise. It was a chest, and from the stench alone you could guess the contents of that cursed box. It was Zerah's head. When we questioned the deliverer, she told us what became of Eldric's sister and the other prisoners. According to her, our people were locked up in cells of a dungeon, starved and tortured. Everyday, nobles and merchants would visit that dungeon, pay hefty sums of gold and silver, and came out with one or more captives in tow. Our people were sold as mere possessions, Lord Velmund. She also told us that they tortured Zerah so she would divulge information, and from there her tormentor discovered that she was the daughter of one of the most powerful chief-thanes in Norsmund. Those are the events preceding this war, Lord Velmund."

"The female who delivered Zerah said it was a 'gift from the Duke' verbatim?"

"Indeed."

"And you believed her? I find it implausible that the Duke would commit such crimes. Slavery was long replaced by serfdom in the Kingdom. My father was even adamant on opposing the notion of using slaves for forced labor. But I knew that some nobles would still resort to slave trade due to high demand and profits. Re vera, I knew exactly who was the miscreant responsible upon the demise of Zerah's tribe."

"It sounds to me that you are merely speaking on the defense of your father. We have witnesses who had seen both the battle and captivity of Zerah's tribe."

"And what have they saw per detail?"

"They wore mail armor and helmet, according to the captives who managed to have fled during the battle. The same as those soldiers outside. If I recall it correctly, they wore clothes with their armor the color of lilacs, embedded upon it were two swords crossed against each other. I happen to see those garbs personally on Ironfolk corpses when my men and I visited the field of battle on the subsequent days of the slaughter."

"I see. That only confirms my suspicion. Pray tell, what have you observed upon the soldiers in this army, particularly their appearance? Do they resemble those you have seen before?"

"I do not know what you are getting at, but I cannot say they were exactly similar. Except for the warriors with simple clothing in this army, the ones with proper armor had two different sets of garments, with also the exception of those black armored knights. None had the color of lilac in them, too, nor the symbol of the pair of swords."

"Quite a perceptive observation, Zallack. You see, each of the noble houses in the Kingdom possesses their own unique crest to represent and distinguish their family from the rest of the nobility. The pair of swords you spoke off is one of them. Knights and soldiers carry banners with crests with them for if they won, not only would the prestige of the house they serve increases, but also could gain favors at the Royal court. My point here is that not all soldiers from the Kingdom act as a coherent armed forces bound by a single authority. The Royal House of Durhamfortt has limited influence outside of the Central Region, thus the Kingdom itself is a decentralized entity. Each region of the Kingdom has its own overlord, namely the dukes, whom from the days of old founded several factions of their own with their vassals; the provincial lords and other minor nobles. Like the King, these dukes have to sometimes deal with ambitious and disloyal vassals. Their authority is not exactly absolute. To illustrate a conceivable event of such case, a noble of possibly high stature and influence can manage to march an army into an uncharted territory without the knowing of his overlord."

"So, you are suggesting that a different noble would go against the will of the Duke, and said noble would also pin the blame on him? It seems to me that you are merely finding a scapegoat for your father."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. But can you reiterate what you said about not finding the crest of those belligerents who attacked Zerah's tribe? Also, can you tell me what crests have you seen so far in this army?"

"I won't repeat myself, Lord Velmund. But from what I saw when taking a stroll back in the camp inside the town, there were the crests of the eagle, turtle and the crow. That does not prove your father's innocent, if that is what you want to imply."

"I would apologize for the confusion, but the last crest you mentioned was a raven, not a crow. Well, I do not appear to have the substantial evidence to prove anything of the sort, but I assume I would take possession of it in a few day–"

"Pardon my insolence to have disturb you, m'lord," Frenda called out from outside the carriage, riding close to near within his earshot. As Velmund lowered the window and lifted the curtain, the female knight continued, "Sixth, seventh, and eight seats have arrived from their scouting mission. It appears that they had brought a letter from the commander of the City Watch, whom I recall was Night Owl's old mentor. They are also accompanied by a pair soldiers of the twin sword crest, though the men-at-arms in question, I assume, had hostile intentions during their initial encounter with our Raven Knights, hence why they are bound by ropes."

Or perhaps within a few minutes, Velmund thought to himself as he received the sealed parchment from his knight commandress. At the mention of the soldiers of the twin sword crest, Velmund noticed Zallack raising an eyebrow, a visible distress upon the man's expression. From this reaction, he came to surmise that Zallack was able to learn the Common Tongue to some extent, which was not a rarity at all, considering that some of the docile tribes were able to communicate with their neighbors through trade.

As he broke the seal, he uncovered the contents of the correspondence addressed to him:

To my dearest childhood friend,

I'm sorry to disappoint you for expecting a letter from our stupid friend we came to associate with a big-eyed bird or his illegitimate old man, but you understand the reason why. Men have a tendency to make a mess of things. But seriously, our pet snake has finally come out of its hole to wag its tail on our doorstep. If you want to sever its head, buy a knife at the village of Sasbury. However, don't trust the merchant who resides at the manor who comes to greet you first, he seems to overprice his wares!

Your beloved childhood friend and future sister-in-law,

Mana Ferndale

P.S: The sister-in-law part was written in jest, but you never know! Send my regards to her, if you will.

"Gramercy, Frenda," Velmund blurted, tucking behind the letter inside a pocket underneath his jerkin. "We are still more or less a day away from the city, so we should find where to camp next. I know it is barely noon, but I hear the grunts of complaint from the peasant militia even from afar. What are the nearest settlements in the vicinity?"

"M'lord, on the northwest side a mile away is Hatskins…" Frenda began to whisper just audibly for her liege lord alone to hear, seemingly cautious upon the eavesdropping by the other man behind the window of the carriage, in order not to divulge information upon the presence of an enemy leader. "…a settlement which regained a township recently. Two and a half mile due east is the village of Sasbury, which is in close proximity of the River Dalewood. On the west lies the village of Merntaul, a mile and half from here, a farming village which we can use to resupply, especially because of the troubling news Dame Reona has reiterated me. I assume that is why you chose not to disband the army too quickly, m'lord?"

"I left Night Owl specifically to be my eyes at the city while I was gone. It seems my suspicions were not unfounded. But very well, we camp on the village of Sasbury. Send a rider there at once to inform of our arrival. Do not spread the news to the troops yet. We will convene a war council this evening. All of the twelve seats currently present are to join us."

"It shall be done, my liege," she softly uttered before sprinting her horse away.

Velmund faced Zallack momentarily after the exchange with Frenda. He noticed a stony expression upon the man, masked beneath was a layer of exasperation and displeasure or even fury. A hint of those emotions can also be descried upon the man's eyes. Discerning the concealed change on Zallack's countenance dazzled him for an instant. Hiding his bloodlust quite well is fairly an impressive feat, Velmund thought in his head.

"Is something wrong, Zallack?" he queried, maintaining a calm tone. "I apologize if our conversation was unexpectedly interrupted. I meant no disrespect."

"I was not bothered by that in the slightest. But I will admit, the sight of the Knight Reaper does not suit me well, especially now that I know that a beautiful maiden is behind the armor. Her innocent look contradicts her actions on the field of battle. I also meant no disrespect by that remark."

"She was in my employ since we were little. She is a good friend, and a skillful swordswoman with her greatsword. Although, a nickname such as the 'Knight Reaper' does not suit her well, in my opinion."

"This discussion is dragging too long, would you not agree? How about we cut to the chase and you tell me your reason for summoning me?"

"Very well. I will say it in simple words: I want your horde to fight for me."

"T-That is absurd!" Zallack bawled, his face suddenly flushing red with the suppressed anger finally being drawn out. "Our captivity is enough dishonor, and you would dare command and treat us like your pesky lapdogs?! If you wanted to insult me, you could have saved the trouble for the both us not doing a roundabout way to say it."

"You misunderstood me, Zallack. I will pay for your services, of course."

"I have no need of your gold or any promise of riches. My warrior's pride cannot be swayed by your temptatious offers."

"You have many things to gain from this proposition, Zallack, but please do not affront me and treat me as a fool who would tarnish your so called warrior's pride," Velmund replied sharply without raising his voice, peering directly upon his interlocutor's eyes.

"Then do tell me the things I would gain," he mocked, without further care with his expression.

"Heed my words carefully, Zallack. In return for your agreement, you and your men would not only gain freedom from captivity, which I assume would be the least lucrative opportunity I shall present, but also a path for retribution for the deaths of your comrades and countless innocent lives, against a man you do not even know pulling the strings behind a scheme that beguiled both my father and your chief-thanes. In doing so, you can also spare the lives of your own countrymen who has long suffered the same fate Zerah has endured, but are still on the realm of the living unlike her. Instead of returning to Norsmund as defeated warriors, you would be hailed as heroes. But most importantly…" Velmund halted for a momentary pause, ensuring that his counterpart kept his undivided attention towards him. "…I will offer you peace, peace that will finally end the bad blood between your tribe and my people."

Hmmm... Velmund recruiting barbarians to his army? What do you guys think? Is it a sound decision or a foolish one?

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