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- Once upon a midnight dreary,
- while I pondered, weak and weary,
- Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
- while I nodded, nearly napping,
- suddenly there came a tapping,
- As of some one gently rapping,
- rapping at my chamber door.
-Edgar Allen Poe
Lessons learned
The view from the windows of the royal library was one of peace and tranquility, as the first major snowfall of the winter began to accumulate in Beli Mawr. Aric found the view a mesmerizing diversion from the dry and dusty tome on sorcery he had been studying. Still, knowing his studies to be important, especially given the threat posed by the forces of the dark, he turned away from the snow-covered forest and returned to the task at hand. Reading on, Aric slowly found himself drawn to a new spell, one that enabled a sorcerer to cast a shield spell that, depending on the power of the caster, could cover a small group of men and horses, protecting them from outside attack. Seeing this to be similar to the shield cast with ward cubes, the young prince committed the spell to memory while practicing the required hand motions to cast, control, and adjust the spell.
Believing he had the spell memorized, Aric incanted the activation cantrip just as the door to the library opened. Captain Ieuan and Squire Riordan recoiled in surprise when the crimson tinged energy field suddenly materialized in front of them, effectively cutting off their access to Aric and the entirety of the library, a large space to shield.
Ieuan reached out with his magical abilities to test the shield wall and, finding it to be solid, decided to see how Aric would handle an unexpected attack. Stepping back slightly, and advising Riordan to assist, both drew upon their resources and attacked the shield wall with a brilliant display of magical energy. Aric initially flinched at seeing his instructor, as well as his best friend, attacking his shield, but seeing this for the test that it was, quickly grinned at the challenge and firmed up the shield, pushing the boundary towards his attackers.
The guard captain, surprised by the advancing shield wall, ended his test and signed for Riordan to do the same. Seeing his instructor end his test, Aric whispered another cantrip and moved his right hand in an arc, causing a portal to open in the shield, which Ieuan and Riordan strode through.
“Very well done, my prince,” Ieuan congratulated his apprentice, as Aric sealed the portal behind them. “I couldn’t have done better myself. Did you notice what this particular spell does with the magical energy cast against it?”
“Yes, master, it absorbs the energy of an attack, serving to strengthen the shield wall. The harder it is hit, the stronger it becomes. I do have one question, however, master. How will this spell react if attacked by those beings who are naturally impervious to magic, like dragon-kind?”
“Aric, this shield spell is impervious to any attack, magical or mundane. It will hold off any attacker: even undead in mist form cannot pass this barrier. The only limitation is the depth of the magical resources of the sorcerer casting the shield. Still, the spell can be handed off from one sorcerer to another when the original caster tires. Would you like to learn how that is done?”
“Yes, master, I would. Could Riordan be included in this as well?” Aric inquired, determined to include his foster brother in everything he could handle.
“Absolutely, this is well within his abilities if he feels up to it. Would you like to try this, Riordan?” Ieuan inquired of the young Squire.
Seeing the boy’s ready grin flash across his face at the challenge of trying something new, Ieuan explained to Riordan how to receive the pass from Aric. Riordan prepared himself to receive control of the shield spell and then said, “I’m ready, Aric.”
Sensing his readiness, Aric concentrated for a moment, and suddenly the spell was being controlled by Riordan. Aric watched as Ieuan taught the younger squire how to expand, shrink, and move the shield wall, and then how to open and close a portal in the shield wall. Finally, satisfied that Riordan had mastered the control of the spell, he then had the younger boy pass the spell to his control, which was quickly passed back to the young prince before it was deactivated by a suddenly tired Aric.
Seeing the boy yawn, Ieuan told both boys, “That is a very powerful spell boys, and will draw heavily on your magical resources the first few times you cast it. We’ll work on it a bit more over the next few days before we leave.”
“Leave? Where are we going, master?” Aric inquired.
Ieuan replied, “We are heading to Deva to provide a suitable escort for the new High Priestess of Vindayin. The arrangements have all been made and we will be leaving mid-week with a contingent of temple guardsmen, along with my troop of royal guardsmen. The king felt that this would be a good mission to start the two of you out on.”
“Now, off to the practice yard, both of you,” Ieuan told the boys. “Despite the magical progress made this morning, you must still work on your sword skills each and every day. Your enemies will not care if you are tired.”
Grumbling slightly, both boys began the trek to the snow-covered practice yard, knowing that they would likely both have a few new bruises by the end of the session. They had learned that Ieuan, while being a fair-minded instructor, was also not about to let either young man get away with slacking in their sword drills. If their sparring was not done in a realistic and energetic fashion, with an eye towards winning, he would step in and soundly thrash both of them with either the quarterstaff or the practice sword. The boys had progressed to using real swords towards the end of the fall, but Ieuan preferred to administer his corrections with the simpler weapons. He was wickedly fast with the quarterstaff, and only slightly slower with the heavily weighted wooden practice swords, and both weapons drove their points home with bruises. Needless to say, after a few thrashings, the boys went at each other with a ferocity that surprised their onlookers from the guard force.
In reality, the boys were fast becoming accomplished swordsmen, with the lightning-fast reaction times of youth. What they lacked was experience with real opponents. The members of the guard force, while presenting real opponents, would not press the boys to their limits for fear of what could happen to someone who accidentally wounded or injured a member of the royal family, a status that had been extended to cover the young squire as well. Riordan might not be a blood member of the royal line, but Aric made it abundantly clear to anyone foolish enough to challenge his status that Riordan was the brother of his heart, and ranked only behind the prince himself. A point made again only yesterday, when the chancellor attempted to override the prince in assigning his squire to some other duty for the day.
“All right boys, we’ll be using real blades today on slippery footing. Given that, I want you both in your mail shirts and wearing full facial protection,” Ieuan advised.
With that, the boys quickly donned padded undershirts before pulling on their chain mail shirts. Each boy donned his protective headgear, retrieved their respective swords, and strode out onto the practice ground. After a few minutes of the elvin sword dance to stretch and warm up, each boy faced the other, bowed, and then swept their katanas up in salute to each other.
“Fight well, my brother,” Aric said to Riordan.
“Fight well and with honor, my brother,” was Riordan’s response.
As had become their custom, the pair launched at each other, Riordan launching a high line attack that began pushing Aric back across the grounds. Aric patiently measured the attack against him, waiting for his brother to fall into a pattern before launching a midline counter attack at Riordan through a minor opening of his guard that most wouldn’t have even noticed. Back and forth they ranged, the clear ringing impacts of steel on steel drawing the usual audience from the guard force to watch the prince and his foster brother push each other to their very limits.
Suddenly, the young prince slipped on a patch of compacted snow, and Riordan leapt on the opening like a hunting cat on fresh meat. The low slashing attack took the prince’s legs out from under him, and he hit the ground with a thud. Before he could roll away, Riordan was standing over the prince with his blade at the prince’s throat. Seeing he had lost this round, Aric reached up with his hand and was quickly pulled to his feet by Riordan.
“Well done, Riordan!” Ieuan congratulated the younger boy. “As we’ve discussed many times, you must be prepared for the unexpected and take advantage of any mistake made by your opponents. This is the primary reason I wanted you out here today. You may well find yourselves fighting on snow or ice, and you need to work on maintaining your footing and balance.”
“Again,” Ieuan commanded.
Aric and Riordan began a new match, and this time the snow had largely been compacted, and the footing was treacherous. The two ranged back and forth across the grounds, each throwing their all into the match. Again the rapid ring of steel on steel ranged across the practice yard as the boys fought each other to the point of exhaustion. Their reaction times were slowing after another fifteen minutes of steady attack, defense, and counter-attack, each probing the other, looking for an opening to exploit. After another ten minutes, Ieuan saw that the boys were so tired they were becoming sloppy.
“Hold,” Ieuan called to the boys, who turned to face their instructor and removed their headgear.
“I think that’s enough for one day, boys. You are both approaching exhaustion, and someone is likely to get hurt by accident. I want both of you to go through your taichee kara’ te to cool down your muscles before hitting the baths.”
“Yes, master,” both boys responded, before rushing to the weapons room to remove their mail shirts and the accompanying heavy undergarments.
Taichee kara’ te was the proper name for what was widely known as the elvin sword dance. It was, however, more than just a sword exercise. It began as an adjunct to the contemplative meditation techniques of the Alvar and elves, and evolved into a series of moves that were performed slowly, with emphasis on performing each move properly. While not originally intended as a fighting technique, it was soon discovered that the technique was ideally suited to teaching the proper forms for a defensive fighting style that became known as taichee. Over time, this grew to include a series of stylistic moves with the sword, and this became known as kara’ te.
The techniques, when combined, became the Alvar and elvin approach: to combine meditation, stretching, exercise, empty-handed fighting, and sword drill. Years of practice deeply ingrained the technique into Alvar and elvin children, so that when they were confronted with an attack, they reacted automatically with the right moves to counter, and then use the attack against the attacker. It was this practice, more than the moves themselves that made Alvar and elvin warriors so formidable. As a rule, Alvar and elvin children are drilled in taichee kara’ te from the time they are old enough to stand.
Both youths were preparing to begin when Ieuan entered, joining them in their routine this day. As was traditional, the boys followed the lead of their instructor in the speed of the routine, starting with clearing their minds before slowly moving into the moves of taichee. Each move was performed with a smoothly flowing elegance that alternately stretched, flexed, and relaxed each and every muscle; the three Alvar a study of grace.
As each approached their weapons, the dance did not stop; they smoothly reached down and were suddenly holding their swords, initially with the scabbard still covering the blade to add extra weight to the weapons, thereby increasing the effort level. Each eventually swung the sword up into a salute, before bringing the sword down and removing the scabbard, gracefully setting it to the side before beginning a series of stylized slashing attacks, followed by the moves of the parry, block, and thrust, all performed to slow, exquisite perfection by the three warriors. After the moves had repeated twice, the group smoothly recovered their respective scabbards, sheathed the weapons, and bowed to each other before seating themselves in lotus fashion, the sword laid across the lap, with their hands resting on the knees, as they finished the meditative portion of the exercise, each slowing their breathing as they relaxed body and mind.
After a half hour, Ieuan roused himself and stood, followed quickly by his students.
“Boys, I’m very pleased with what you managed to accomplish this morning. Both of you get a nice, warm bath and then get busy packing for the trip to Deva. Remember, it will be cold and wet, and you’ll be on horseback, so pick your clothing accordingly.”
“Thank you, master,” both boys replied. Aric continued, “We will pick warm, dry clothing with waterproofed cloaks.”
“This is a real mission, boys, and while Captain Aslief and his team do a very good job of protecting the borders, they can’t be everywhere, so there is a very real chance we’ll be attacked, especially if word of this mission has leaked to the wrong people. The two of you have developed into good swordsmen, but you have never faced a live opponent who wanted your blood. You should think on that when you have time.”
“Master, we heard that Captain Aslief and the Wildon border guard attacked and destroyed the base the dark forces were staging from. Do you still think we could be attacked after that?” Aric inquired.
“While I don’t believe in borrowing trouble, boys, only a fool would believe that our enemies do not have backup forces in the area,” Ieuan replied. “Now, off you go, and try to stay out of trouble, okay?”
Both boys grinned as they headed to their rooms to get clean clothing before entering the royal bath, where attendants helped the boys out of their sweaty garments and quickly had each boy lathered from head to foot. The soap was quickly rinsed off, allowing the boys to luxuriate in the warmth of the large sunken marble bath; relaxing their tired muscles. Still, being active young boys, it wasn’t long before the two were engaged in an energetic water fight, with the waters of the tub sloshed and splashed everywhere as the pair laughed and shouted like loons, earning the pair indulgent smiles from the bath attendants.
Eventually, the boys felt more like raisins than boys, and decided it might be time to get out of the tub and into some dry clothing. The bath staff made short work of drying the boys off, combing their hair into some semblance of order, helping them into their clothes, and ushering them on their way. As the pair entered the apartment they shared, they saw lunch had been set out for them, which they fell upon heavily. Lunch had been scarcely finished before their valet entered the room to begin helping the pair pack for the trip to Deva.
Five days on the road from Beli Mawr to Deva, and Aric and Riordan were beginning to wonder if they would ever be warm again. A strong blast of cold arctic air had swept into the Greenwood from the Dragon’s Teeth to the northwest, dropping daytime temperatures into the low teens, and the nighttime temperatures well below zero. Still, the force had continued to make good time by changing out horses roughly every twenty leagues, and was now only a half day’s ride from their destination. The boys were quietly talking about a warm bath when Aric sensed something out of place and fell silent.
Riordan picked up on this immediately and called out to Captain Ieuan, who reined his mount over to join the boys.
“What is it, boys?” Ieuan inquired.
“Aric senses something, master,” Riordan replied, “we were talking and he suddenly stopped, and it felt like he was pulling away.”
Aric was suddenly animated, looking around at his surroundings as if comparing them to some other place. “Master, there is a large force of orcs behind us, running as if the hounds of hell were at their heels. There are several hundred at least, and I think they are about an hour behind us.”
“We can’t handle that many by ourselves. Is the road clear ahead of us? Can we outrun them, Aric?”
Mentally kicking himself for not looking in all directions, Aric replied, “If the horses do not falter, master, I believe we can outdistance them. Give me a moment and I will check the road ahead.”
Ieuan quickly took command and advised the temple guard of the situation, while Aric scanned further down the road. Finding the way forward clear, Ieuan ordered the force forward, and within mere moments the entire group was moving down the high road at a full gallop, irrespective of the weather conditions. Aric and Riordan pulled ahead of the main force, with Aric scanning the countryside and Riordan maintaining a telepathic link with Ieuan to provide as much warning as possible, if trouble should arise on the path ahead.
The next several hours passed in a white-fogged blur for both boys, so intent on their responsibilities, they stopped taking note of the coldness of the air and the snow falling across their cloaks, focusing instead on the countryside and the condition of their mounts, who were both blowing hard and steaming from their sweat as the boys crested the rise overlooking the expanse of the great Silver Lake. Having never seen the lake before, the boys were stunned at the sight of so much water before their eyes. Settling quickly, however, they both focused their eyes along the course of the road and spotted the walls of Deva, no more than a league ahead. Reporting their findings to Ieuan, the pair received orders to ride ahead and rouse the city guard and to have them prepare fresh horses so that a combined force of Alvar and elvin warriors could rid the countryside of the blight of the orcs.
Acknowledging their orders, the boys urged their tired mounts into a final gallop for the protection of the city and its strong walls.
Drawing rein before the gates of Deva, Aric threw his cloak back and, standing in his stirrups, shouted, “Hello, the city! I am Prince Aric of Aradan and am in need of aid!”
Instantly, the spy port in the gate was opened to verify the identity of those outside the gates. Seeing an Alvar prince and his squire outside the gate, the sergeant of the guard quickly shouted, “It is the prince! Open the gate! Open the gate!” as he ran to summon the captain of the guard. Finding the captain, Sergeant Wallace urgently requested the iron-haired captain join him at the gate, while filling him in on what little he knew of the situation.
Both the captain and his sergeant skidded to a halt preparing to meet their prince, just as the pair of tired riders clattered through the gatehouse and into the castle bailey. “Highness, I am Captain Willem, how may I serve?”
Aric replied in as level and commanding a tone as he had ever managed, “Captain, our escort force for the new High Priestess of Vindayin are on the road and are being pursued by a force of several hundred orcs. Our detail commander, Captain Ieuan, bids you assemble the city guard force, and ready fresh horses so that we may assault the forces of the dark together!”
“It shall be done, highness,” Captain Willem replied, before turning and snapping out a series of fast orders for grooms to prepare fresh horses and for his guards to assemble. As new horses were led into the bailey, Aric and Riordan quickly secured new mounts and moved their bedrolls into the care of the castle housecarl before adjusting the stirrups on the new horses to suit their shorter statures. Remounting, the pair were ready to ride again just as the main force rode through the guardhouse and into the bailey. Captain Willem quickly had the city guard mounted, and the escort team remounted on fresh animals in short order. The combined cavalry force, now numbering some three hundred riders, began to assemble into a column of fours as Aric and Riordan rode to the head of the column, taking places between Captains Ieuan and Willem.
Ieuan leaned towards Aric and quietly asked, “What are you doing, my prince?”
Aric drew himself up in his saddle and faced the Captain of his guard as his prince for the very first time. Seeing the inner change in Aric, he was not too surprised to hear him reply, “Our realm stands in jeopardy Captain, and as one of its future leaders, I have a duty to defend my grandfather’s realm, do I not?”
“I think it would be better, my prince, if you were to let us handle this. You lack the field experience we have, and I could not bear to tell the king I had let anything happen to you,” Ieuan replied evenly.
“How, then, am I to gain the experience you have, Captain, if I sit here in comfortable shame while others do my bidding? No, I think this time I shall have to insist,” Aric responded in an adult tone and fashion, asserting his prerogative as prince of the realm for the first time in his life. “Please have the royal standard brought forward, if you would.”
Pride and concern warred for preeminence on Ieuan’s features, as he called for the royal standard to be brought forward, eventually settling in pride as his student began to emerge as a leader. As the standard was brought to the head of the column, Riordan kneed his mount forward and took a deep breath before he asked Aric, “May I have the honor of carrying the royal standard for you, my prince?”
When Aric smiled his approval, Riordan sidestepped his mount to the trooper holding the standard, reached down and hoisted the staff into his right stirrup, where the breeze caught the banner and belled it out, proudly displaying the quartered arms of the royal house. As this was Aric’s personal standard, it was surmounted by a front-facing knight’s helm in gold, surmounted with the crown of a prince of the Greenwood, cadenced by the argent bar with three downward-facing branches, looking like an inverted crown, indicating the first born or, in this case, heir to the throne.
Riordan proudly guided his mount to a position behind Aric as the Prince turned to his captains and suggested they should move out. Willem deferred to Ieuan’s position as a leader of the royal guard, suggesting he should take overall command. With that resolved, Captain Ieuan stood in his stirrups and shouted, “Troop, at the canter, forward!”
The cavalry force had drawn to a halt just at the crest of a ridgeline, with only a third of their force visible to the orc force now assembling on the far side of the clearing. The hundred-strong force that was visible was backed up with two additional lines of cavalry, hidden just behind the crest of the ridgeline. The intent was to get the orc force to commit, thinking they faced a much smaller force, and then bring the full force forward. Each trooper was holding a bow at the ready so that the force could engage the orcs at the maximum possible distance before beginning the cavalry charge, skirmish line by skirmish line.
Eventually, the orc clan leader whipped his forces into a frenzy sufficient to get them to attack the calmly waiting cavalry force. When the orcs had closed to 200 yards, the bows came up to high angles, and there was a sudden thrum of bowstrings as the arrows were launched at the hapless orc force. At the same time, the two additional skirmish lines rode into position behind the lead rank. Again, there was the thrumming of bowstrings, as two hundred additional bows launched a second flight of arrows at their opponents. Orcs fell like wheat cut with the scythe as the two flights of arrows took their targets down by the dozens. One final volley of arrow fire was launched, and at 100 yards the lead rank of skirmishers made ready to charge the remaining orc force, now numbering less than half the force that started across the clearing.
The orders given to each skirmish line were identical: charge through the orc line, cutting down as many as possible without slowing down, to allow the following skirmish line to attack. The lines were to reform behind the orc force and prepare to charge the remaining elements of the orc force. The first skirmish line was under Captain Ieuan’s command; the second, under Captain Willem’s command; and the third, under the command of Prince Aric.
As Ieuan’s force began to thunder across the frozen ground towards the orc force, Aric and Riordan exchanged glances that each read as a mixture of fear, anticipation, and excitement. Willem allowed Ieuan to gain a fifty yard gap before ordering his line forward. With a sudden gulp, Aric realized he was next. Tightening his grip on his katana, Aric gauged the distance to Willem’s line and at the right moment, rose in his stirrups and, in a surprisingly strong voice, gave the order to advance.
As expected, the first two skirmish lines had made a hash of the orc formations, with those who survived the first two charges milling about in confusion, as Aric’s line crashed through them yet again. Aric slashed to his right and his left, his katana leaving a trail of dead and broken orc bodies in his wake, as he cleared a path for Riordan, who was unable to fight because of his brave insistence in carrying the royal standard. As quickly as they had hit the orcs, they were through, and were reforming their line for another attack, should it be necessary.
By this point, the orc force numbered less than twenty warriors, when, against all odds, the orc clan chief strode forward and planted his banner, defiantly standing his ground as he called out a challenge to the combined Alvar/elvin force, his bastard sword clearly pointed directly at Aric.
Captain Willem’s face went white with fury at the challenge, and slowly, the force began inching forward, when Captain Ieuan shouted, “Hold your position!”
Riding towards Aric and Riordan, the two captains looked at the young prince and advised him quietly, “My prince, the chief of that orc clan is calling you out in single combat. You do not have to agree, but since you have made participation in this battle a matter of honor, to simply ride him down would not be the honorable thing to do. In effect, you have two choices: you can face him, or you can let him and his surviving warriors go. I cannot advise you in this my prince; you must choose.”
“Will his surviving warriors attack if I beat him?” Aric inquired.
“Orcs are a strange bunch by our standards, highness, but I’ve never heard of a warrior dishonoring his clan chief before; not after offering single combat.”
Aric pondered his options for a moment before nudging his mount forward. Riordan followed with the royal standard, stopping with Aric and accepting the reins of his horse, as Aric stripped off his cloak and draped it across his saddle. He then strode to Riordan’s side and reached out his hand to his brother, who, clasping the offered hand, said, “Fight well my brother.”
“Thank you, my brother. Regardless of what happens here, always remember that I love you.”
With that, Aric spun and strode towards the waiting orc chieftain, his sword held at the ready, when suddenly the orc charged the younger and smaller prince, his bastard sword held high. Seeing the attack for the clumsy charge it was, Aric sidestepped the charge and slashed out with his katana, neatly slicing the orc just below the rib cage, opening a deep gash that bled profusely. Spinning about and facing his opponent, Aric launched a ferocious high/low combination attack intended to confuse and tire his opponent by taking advantage of the youth’s speed. Aric was steadily pressing the orc chief back towards Riordan when the orc, using his size, batted Aric’s attack aside and launched a vicious overhand swipe at the prince that Aric was barely able to catch on his blade. Still, the force of the impact was such that he was thrown back, staggering from the impact, his left arm badly cut and numb from the impact, and barely managed to keep his feet in the snow.
Shaking his head to clear it, Aric saw yet another opening in the orc’s guard, and slashed out yet again; this time, cutting deeply across the chieftain’s left thigh, staggering the orc. Aric had come to respect the chieftain’s strength, and reasoned that his best approach was to remain on the edge of his reach and spar and parry his blows while looking for yet another opening.
Following the creature’s moves, he began to see a pattern emerge in his attack where he always went back to a high line attack after a low slash. Biding his time, Aric waited yet again for his opponent to make a mistake, when he saw the low slash start again. Spinning into the orc’s guard as the bastard sword swung upward again, Aric uncoiled a high slash at the orc’s throat with every ounce of strength he possessed and continued spinning away from the orc.
Facing his opponent yet again, an exhausted Aric at first thought he must have missed his mark as the bastard sword came up again. Then, in slow motion, blood began to pour from the neck slash, followed by the head of the orc chief as it slowly slid off the right shoulder. The body then collapsed like a house of cards as his cavalry force roared its approval, all of them taking up the chant, “Aric, Aric, Aric, Aric.”
Finding a broken spear, Aric jammed the broken end into the not quite frozen ground and then went in search of the chieftain’s head. Finding it, Aric returned to the spear and faced the remaining orc warriors, holding the severed head of their chief high overhead as he let loose with the loudest battle cry he could muster, before forcing the head onto the point of the spear and striding back to his waiting horse. Riordan handed his reins back and the pair wheeled their mounts and rode back towards their own lines. As Aric and Riordan passed the line, Ieuan ordered the first skirmish line forward to mop up the remaining handful of Orcs before turning his attention to the youngest members of his command.
“That was very well done, my prince,” Ieuan complimented Aric quietly while calling up his healing skills to repair the cut and bruise on the prince’s upper arm.
“If that is true, Ieuan, why do I feel sick to my stomach?” Aric asked quietly.
“Killing should never become easy, my prince. Those who can kill without feeling sick over it should never be given command of troops, and should certainly never lead nations. Feeling sick over killing is a perfectly normal reaction, Aric. Still, some good has come out of this battle.”
Glancing up at his mentor, Aric replied, “What good could come from this, Ieuan?”
“Aric, you have led men in battle, done so in a competent fashion, defeated a much larger opponent in single combat, and most importantly, you have gained the respect of the men in this force. In the future, troops from any army unit, but most specifically those from Deva and the royal garrison, will immediately react to your orders, as word of this action spreads through the army, because you acted honorably and competently. Come, lad, we have a mess to clean up, and then we should get back to Deva.”
The next morning brought a flurry of activity, as preparations to escort the new High Priestess of Vindayin to Beli Mawr got underway. A command conference had been called and, for the fist time, Aric and Riordan were invited to participate. As the plan was laid out, the boys could see it was as simple as it was audacious. Given the presence of such a large force of dark beings within the kingdom, they couldn’t be certain another attack was not in the offing. As a result, it was decided that where a ceremonial honor guard would not serve, brute force and speed would be brought to bear.
The entire group was on the road for four brutally hard days, the cold only easing on the last day. A great many horses were ridden to the point of exhaustion on the return leg, but it seemed that speed served where stealth had not.
The group was back in the capitol city for less than a day, with the high priestess ensconced in her new role in the temple, when Aric and Riordan were summoned to the audience hall, after being told to cut their classes short and quickly bathe and change clothing.
As Aric and Riordan entered the audience hall of the king, it was immediately apparent that this was not going to be a simple presentation to visiting dignitaries. Banners were hung from the walls, representing each of the noble houses of the kingdom of the Greenwood, and an honor guard of troops in the green and gold of the Deva garrison lined the hall, interspersed with troops in the crimson and gold of the royal household guard. As the boys walked in between the ranks of troops, the troopers raised their swords in salute, and then took a knee in homage, as the prince and his squire passed through.
As the pair reached the dais at the end of the hall, Aric was greeted by a familiar sight: his grandfather, the king, and a woman who looked so much like she who had been his mother that it was uncanny, right down to her brilliant green eyes. She rose, dressed in the full regalia of the High Priestess of Vindayin at last, her arm on that of the king, and gazed down on the pair of boys with a slight smile on her face.
“Aric, Prince of Aradan, and Riordan, Squire of Altheas, after due consideration and consultation with His August Majesty, King Dacian of Aradan,” and here she turned to smile on the king, “it has been decided that in recognition of your brave and decisive action during the Battle of Kris’tain Ridge, that henceforth, you shall both bear the rank of Knight Lieutenant in the armies of the Greenwood. Congratulations to the both of you.”
Riordan glanced at his feet, uncomfortable with this award, then cleared his throat and addressed his concern, “Most Holy Priestess, I did nothing of note during the battle and do not feel entitled to this award.”
Aric, stunned speechless, could only gape at his foster brother in amazement: unable to respond to the statement denying his worth and his contribution.
Before he could recover his wits, High Priestess Severra saved him the trouble by responding, “Did you not volunteer to carry the royal standard in the battle? Did you not follow your prince into battle, knowing that you had no ability to defend yourself as a result? Did you not immediately follow your prince as he left the safety of your lines to engage the orc chieftain in single combat, again without any defensive capability?”
“But Aric is my brother, holy priestess. I would follow his lead anywhere.”
“It is that bravery and determination that earned you your commission, Lieutenant. The Kingdom and Vindayin want you to continue by the side of your prince, and to do so as an officer in the armed forces of the kingdom. Will you accept this commission?” Severra inquired of Riordan.
Looking at the brother of his heart, Riordan heard a simple, “Please?” from Aric. Knowing he could refuse his brother nothing, he turned back towards the assembled leadership and simply responded, “I humbly accept this commission and charge.”