A ride Towards Harsh wisdom: Chapter two (1)

The horses had been calm that morning, allowing them be loaded and
saddled quickly. The clouds had cleared from the sky, cold sunshine
raining down upon them as they rode out via the north gate, this time
with no crowd around them. Their progress was swift, riding their mounts
at a gallop so that soon, the town of Illpialle was almost out of
sight. The plains of Txarral were before them, and soon they would come
in sight of the valleys and woods where glory was to be won.

All signs pointed to a good pilgrimage, and Rilluex could tell his
companions were in high spirits. Franclerk’s blue eyes had never been so
wide, and he let out a whoop or two as he spurred his horse faster.
Demlun was right behind him, his laughter carrying in the wind. Rohais
and Valette rode side by side, speed not a priority for them as they
held hands. Every minute or so, they would lean towards each other to
exchange a quick kiss.

Rilluex rode beside their newly acquired guide, Mer Papin. The two of
them brought up the rear, the older man not able to match the
blistering pace of the youngsters. Rilluex was content to ride beside
him, as he enjoyed being in his company.

As he had thought, convincing the others to accept Mer Papin as their
guide had not been difficult. Rilluex had called them all around the
table, and Mer Papin had relayed his tale to them, of lost warriors whom
he could have saved. They were as moved as Rilluex had been, and all of
them seemed to warm to him as soon as they met him. Even Valette, who
was normally quite guarded around strangers, became as light hearted and
free as Rilluex had ever seen her, and she spent half the night asking
the kind man questions about the Badlands, her face akin to a child’s as
she listened to his answers.

It had been a grand night of drinking and storytelling, and as a
result their last day in Illpialle had been quiet and peaceful, the
price of good ale weighing on all of them. Rilluex’s companions had all
done well in their individual tasks when they arrived in town. They were
well stocked in food, arrows, and all the gear that they could imagine
having a need for. They had found a storeroom in the inn in which to
keep all they had until they needed it, paying off a guard to ensure
nothing was taken (as that’s how things were done in Illpialle).

So they all spent the day wiling away their time, enjoying their last
hours of comfort before heading off into dirt and danger. Demlun had
wandered about town, showing off his expensive armour and twin swords to
all that would admire them, and chatting to every pretty young girl he
laid his eyes on. Franclerk had found a row of buttresses, and had spent
the time in archery practice. Meanwhile, Rohais and Valette had not
left their room, and none of the men considered disturbing them.

Rilluex had hoped to spend the day with Mer Papin, but to his
disappointment, the older man had had to leave the inn at dawn, in order
to gather his own supplies. Rilluex had offered to accompany him, but
to this, the older man merely smiled.

“My young friend”, Said Mer, his hand on Rilluex’s shoulder matching
the soothing tone of his voice, “My tasks today are to be quite dull and
all too trivial for a youth such as you to not be bored to death by
them. I shall be fine on my own, and shall meet you and your friends on
the morrow, by the north gate”

Rilluex had protested, but Mer would not budge, and left the inn not
to be seen again that day. So the young knight had spent his hours in
much the same manner as Franclerk, practising his sword and shield
drills in the yard outside the Inn. He was pleased with himself as he
trained, his sharpness showing no signs of abandoning him after weeks of
travelling. It was no secret to Hoilettan noble society that he was an
exceptionally talented young warrior, impressing at many tourneys. But
as his father, and indeed all of his companions parents had been clear
to point out, tourney scores meant nothing in the badlands, or on the
battlefield.

As he rode beside Mer Papin, who seemed to be looking around him with
an air of whimsy not often seen in men of his age, Rilluex could not
help but feel content. He was ready, his friends where ready. All of
them where young, strong, and determined to prove themselves, against
any foes that may come their way.

“You and your friends have the all the confidence of youth, it seems.”

Mer Papin’s remark brought Rilluex back to himself, and his mood
swiftly changed back to that which Demlun called melancholy. He turned
to face the older man, who still looked about him with the same
whimsical air as before. Yet when he noticed Rilluex’s gaze on him, he
turned to face his young companion. He was smiling, but his eyes told
the young knight something else.

“I suppose those other young knights felt the same, didn’t they” Said Rilluex heavily.

“You are a rare one, Rilluex Lacrossie, to so read the thoughts of
other men. You aren’t by any chance a latent sage, are you?” Mer Papin
replied.

By now they were both far behind their companions, Demlun and Franclerk almost out of sight as they raced each other.

“No, I am no such thing.” Rilluex said, with an air of laughter.
“It’s only that, with what you told me the other night, I can guess you
of all people are cynical when it comes to youthful confidence.”

“Now my friend, it is there you are mistaken. It is true that all
those I could have saved where confident, but without that confidence,
they would have been far worse off.”

“How so?” Asked Rilluex.

“The warrior without confidence before facing danger is already
slain. One must believe themselves capable of facing any foe, should the
need ever arise. “

“But surely too much confidence can be dangerous, for it makes one foolish?”

At this response from his young companion, whom Mer Papin had only just met, the old man was momentarily amazed.

“You do not speak as a man as young as you should. Who taught you such lessons?

“My father. He told me that if one lets themselves get too full of
themselves in battle, then it shall be their last one. Caution and care
are what get you home, while victory counts on supporting your comrades
as they support you.”

It was a familiar lesson to Rilluex, more familiar to him than
anything. When he said it out loud, it was always a recital, as one
would make in a classroom. He spurred his horse to go faster, as now
even Rohais and Valette were quite far ahead of them.

Mer Papin followed suit, kicking his horse’s flanks to ensure he
stayed level with his young companion. Illpialle was fading out of sight
behind them, the smoke of the steelworks serving to shroud the town in
white fog.

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. Rilluex simply looked ahead
of him, trying to keep sight of Franclerk and Demlun. He did not put
much thought into what he had just told Mer Papin, as indeed he rarely
thought whenever he spoke those words. It was his mantra, as it had been
of all fighting soldiers of his family.

“Your father has it half right, Rilluex Lacrossie.”

This break of the silence made the young knight turn halfway in his
saddle, his eyes now upon the old man, whose face betrayed nothing.

“What do you mean?” Rilluex asked, uncertainly.

“I mean that what your father has told you is half of the truth of
battle, but he has either forgotten, or left out, the rest of what you
must know.”

Mer Papin spoke in a slow and deliberate manner, as if carefully
choosing his words. Rilluex wondered at this, as he had not seen him act
this way before.

“If I can surmise what the secret of being a true warrior is, that
being one who lives to see an old age, it is this. Balance my friend, in
all things.”

“Balance?” Asked Rilluex.

“One must Balance confidence with caution, practiced skill with
instinct, faith in your friends with the willingness to rely one
oneself. This is achieved by the attainment of a focused mind, with a
clear understanding of one’s goals and values.”

“From which book did you learn this, old man?” asked the young knight.

Mer Papin looked to Rilluex, and gave him a warm smile.

“From the book of my life, my oh so young friend. The true lessons of your life cannot be taught to you, remember that.”

“This is probably why you should forget everything I’ve just told
you, as it is just one old man’s opinion. For all I know, I’m completely
wrong.”

It seemed to Rilluex that Mer Papin laughed a little at that last
remark, but before he could question him further, the older man spurred
his horse again, now riding at a fast trot towards Rohais and Valette.

“Balance.” Rilluex repeated this word to himself, his mind unable to
focus on anything else. What Mer Papin had said had seemed to make
sense, at least in theory. But Rilluex was unsure as to whether one
could really life their life by such a creed, and stick to it.

He tried to see if he could understand all his goals and values, as
they stood at this moment. He knew he wanted to survive the pilgrimage,
and hopefully win glory that would reflect well on him and his family.
He wanted his companions to survive with him, and hoped that they too
would win honour and renown.

But what did he truly value? Of course he valued his life, and the
lives of his comrades. But he couldn’t be sure of anything beyond that.
His mind went back to the quarrels with his father, which ranged from
workers’ wages to the need for constant wars with Gardena. His father
had called Rilluex’s outbursts simply youthful rebellion, and sent him
to tourneys in hope his son would work out his frustration. When the
chance to send Rilluex on pilgrimage came along, Baron Feyzin could not
be quicker to make the arrangements.

Rilluex did not know if he could inherit his father’s title and
lands, if he clashed with the man so much. It was not that he didn’t
love and honour him; it was just frustrating for him that the old Baron
was so set in his ways. Rilluex had looked around his father’s lands,
indeed all of Hoilettan, and had come to a conclusion that things needed
to change. So much of what the people valued could not last, and
serious reform needed to happen, if the kingdom was to survive.

But in his private moments, he sometimes wondered if his father might
be right after all; that he was simply acting like a child, naïve to
the way the world really worked. After all, the kingdom had stood for
over a thousand years, and his family’s lands had been prosperous for
twenty generations. So who was he to demand it all change.

“Rilluex, you need to hurry up, we can’t leave you behind.”

At the soft voice of Rohais, Rilluex came back to himself. He turned
about in his saddle, and saw the copper haired mace wielder riding
beside him. She was smiling at him, as if trying to make her comrade
understand that she wasn’t annoyed with him.

Seeing that Rilluex had understood her, Rohais spurred her horse to
catch back up with Valette. Rilluex followed suit, and in a few moments
they had both pulled up beside Valette and Mer Papin. Rohais gave
Rilluex another friendly smile, as she was pleased that they were now
all together. Valette noticed this, and as Rilluex anticipated, gave him
a withering glare. The daughter of the D’orzerge family was certainly
the jealous type, and reached out for her lovers arm. In anticipation of
this, Rohais simply turned around and stroked her cheek in gentle
reassurance.

Rilluex turned away from the pair to see that Franclerk and Demlun
where now riding back towards them, having seemingly tired of their
race. The two of them were engaging in a heated argument as they rode,
obviously prompted by a perceived slight.

“–and I tell you this again, oh third son of a Count, that if my horse was on even ground, you would not stand a chance!”

“Trust a Le Sasbil to come up with excuses like that! Just admit it Demlun, the better man won!”

Valette rolled her eyes as the two young nobles argued, making a
gesture with her hand that caused Rohais to cover her mouth and giggle.
Rilluex couldn’t help but smirk, but Mer Papin seemed far less amused.

“You should not ride so far ahead my young fellows, nor should you
tire out your horses. We shall need to stick together when we reach the
forests, and it is hard riding wherever we shall go.”

At this stern lecture from their guide, the two young knights ceased
their squabbling, and simply moved their horses in line with the rest of
the group.

For half an hour, no one in the group spoke and they simply rode on
towards the ever approaching line of trees that marked the true
beginning of the Badlands. The sky was now starting to show clouds, and
the cold was just starting to bite at them.

When they were within a hundred yards, Mer Papin suddenly dismounted
his horse, and knelt low to the ground, his head raised as if listening
to something. The young warriors were surprised at first, but they
assumed it was simply a scout’s technique.

Mer Papin rose to his feet, and turned to face them. His expression
betrayed some worry, and Rilluex hoped that there was not any danger
near.

“The forest is not so quiet at this moment. A great confluence of
beasts is near where we would seek to enter, and I fear that a large
band of men, either bandits or tribesmen, are also nearby.”

“What should we do?” Asked Franclerk, his hand already reaching to his bow.

“Patience, my friend. While we would be in peril if we passed into
the forest now, I believe if we wait an hour or two, there shall be an
opportunity to pass through without too much trouble.”

“But why should we wait at all!” shouted Demlun, angrily pulling on
his horses reigns. “We came on this pilgrimage to fight, and to face any
danger. What is the point of waiting around like cowards when glory is
right before us?”

Unfazed by this outburst, Mer Papin simply turned towards Demlun, and smiled.

“My dear Demlun, the purpose of the pilgrimage is not just for glory,
but to prove that you have the skills to survive. One of the most
important of these skills is practicality, and knowing when to strike.
We will wait for our best moment, and there we shall find victory.”

Franclerk nodded in agreement, as did Rohais and Valette. Rilluex for
his part could not help but concur with what Mer Papin was telling
them, yet he could understand Demlun’s frustration. They were all
trained warriors, and he was eager to test his skills against some real
foes.

Demlun looked about him, the looks on his friends faces telling him all he needed to know. Like it or not, he was outvoted.

“Fine” grunted Demlun through gritted teeth. “We can make camp I guess. But we’d better not be staying too long.”