CHAPTER 3 - FREEDOM FIGHTERS - Part 1

High King Remus looked at the assembled men before him. Ten Kingsguard stood at attention in the throne room of Castle Holdfast. They wore the armor of leather and plate and carried a variety of weapons. One man stood in front of the rest, he head raised to look at the King.
“You understand Captain what I’m asking you to do?” the King asked, his voice ringing clearly in the large room. It was empty of other men or women, even the servants had been removed.
“I do your Majesty,” the Captain said. “You want us to cross the mountains after Cullen and follow him into the new lands and give any aid we can to his needs.”
“That’s right. I should have sent men with him, but hindsight is always perfect. I send you now to help him in whatever he may need. Take ten of the best horses we have and ride quickly to the Dwarven fortress. I have sent word ahead so they will be expecting you.”
“We’ll leave right away Sire,” the Captain said, saluting his King and turning away to round up his waiting men. The group marched out of the throne room and walked quickly to the royal stables to choose horses.
Within an hour they were mounted with supplies and riding at a trot towards the Everwinter Mountains to see the Dwarves about crossing over. The Captain, a man named Deep by his fellows was a tactician and leader because of his intelligence and his ability to weigh out details before making a plan.
Behind Deep, the men rode in pairs. Cat and Dog were brothers. Where Cat was skinny, his brother was big. Cat was fast, clean shaven, with long dark hair and he carried a lot of knives, some that you could see and some that were hidden.
Dog was bigger, meaner and had a shaved head like many of the Kingsguard soldiers. He carried a pair of hammers as his favored weapons, both of them with heads as big as his fists.
Behind them rode Worm and Stone. Worm was the sneak, a former thief; he was a small man with greasy hair and a lopsided grin. He was the best shot with a bow in the whole team and totally loyal to Deep.
Stone was the biggest man in the group, standing at seven feet tall and wide as a house. He had a square jaw and large hands, shaved his head and carried a sword and an axe. The sword was a large broadsword and the axe had a head twice the size of a normal fighting axe.
Behind Worm and Stone rode the two best swordsmen in the team. Feather was tall and thin, a wiry sort that moved like a striking snake. He carried two short swords, but was good enough to get past the guard of a man with a longer sword and better reach.
Crow wore all black, even painted his iron plate a darker color, and he was almost as sneaky as Worm. He carried a single longsword but he was the only man that could best Feather one time out of three. The pair of them were close and sparred often to keep their training as sharp as their weapons.
Bray usually rode beside Deep because Deep liked to keep him close. Named because he was the loudest and most talkative of the group, but he mostly complained. Behind the complaint however was a strong man who would do anything for the group. This team of men had been together since the end of the Old War and all of them were loyal to each other.
The last two men were Farmer and Heat. Farmer was another large man with huge arms that he gained from his former life as a farmer. He joined the army when he was young but dreamed of going back to farming before he got too much older, earning him the nickname.
Heat was both the chef of the group, responsible for all their meals and he was also the doctor of the group, binding all their wounds and sores with a gentle hand. He knows a lot of folk remedies and was good in a strange land.
Deep was proud of his crew and knew they would be a great help to Cullen when they found him. They had fought along side Cullen during the War and were chosen for being the one group that didn’t have wounded through the whole three days. If any crew could cross the mountains and come back it was this group.
It took a day to ride to the edge of the mountains and another three to climb to the top. Garm, the Dwarven King insisted they stay for a feast, which of course they enjoyed, and then the left the following day for the other side of the cliffs.
Garm had sent Dwarven warriors into the mountains on the far side and discovered the Host creatures that lived there. The Dwarves were in the process of wiping them out. Deep and his crew didn’t find any fight on the other side.
The Dwarves had also explored a little ways into the desert and instead of riding the horses out until they died; each man carried his weapons and basics plus food and then extra water to last them for days. They hoped it would be enough to cross the sandy wasteland and meet up with Cullen. But they were weeks behind.

***

Grimm and the Dreamweaver left the palace at dawn, accompanied by their own fifty soldiers, plus another fifty men and fifty more of the local militia. The militia stayed with them until they hit the border of Rath and then they turned back to stalk the border for a few days and prevent raids.
The Dreamweaver could tell Grimm was itching for a fight, hoping that a raiding party would test them, but the old man personally hoped that they would reach the camp Nicu had built without an issue.
Horse Lords, as the Rathians were often called, were nomadic tribesmen that roamed the grasslands of Rath without settling down. Nicu had changed that, choosing the only hill in the entire region as his base and building a fort on top. This is where Grimm and the Dreamweaver were headed.
Halfway there, the extra Kingsguard turned back, while another group of fifty from men stationed in Rath met them to escort them to the fort. The Dreamweaver could see how groups of men could hide in the grass, since it was so tall that he only saw over it because he was mounted.
Trails had been cut in the grass, but without an escort they could easily be attacked from anywhere, since you couldn’t really see very far through the grass that grew everywhere.
They rode for two weeks, camping at different watering holes that had been cleared. They met tribes of horsemen but had no trouble with them. The farther they got from the border the less likely they would be attacked. The clanless men were staying close to the border and the Dreamweaver was already weeks inside Rath by then.
The hillfort could be seen for miles before they reached it. And a large group of Horse Lords came out to meet them. The Dreamweaver was riding right up close to Grimm and he felt the man go tense as the riders approached.
In front of about thirty horsemen was a tall, wide shouldered man with long hair literally covered in finger bones that clattered as he rode. He wore the traditional vest over his bare chest and he had a look of great pride as he cantered towards the High King’s group.
“Hook,” was all Grimm said, but it carried a lot of meaning between the two men. The Dreamweaver rode a few steps ahead to edge in between the two riders.
“Well met,” the old man said. “Have you come from Nicu’s court to escort us in?”
“For that and to see my old enemy, Grimm the Axe!” Hook laughed. “That scar still makes you look ugly!”
The Dreamweaver looked back at Grimm stunned, but breathed easier when he saw the warrior wouldn’t rise to the bait. Grimm simply scowled at him and looked past him as if he wasn’t there.
“Please,” the Dreamweaver said with as much dignity as he could. “We’ve come to see the new King and to invite him to a tourney and a meeting of his peers. If you’ve come to show us the way, let’s get on with it.”
The old man didn’t like Hook right away, and not because he was loyal to Grimm and the High King although certainly that was part of it, but Hook seemed like a man who went looking for trouble and a man like that usually found it.
Hook laughed, “The old man’s got more bite than you do Grimm!” He turned his horse around and started back towards the high hill that loomed up ahead. One side of it was graded and had a path that zig zagged up the side while the other side was a sheer cliff that looked out over the Sea of Grass as it was called.
Grimm and the Dreamweaver rode ahead and the Kingsguard bristled with aggression. The Dreamweaver knew there was a contingent of Kingsguard here with Nicu, just as the Kingsguard were stationed in every nation with every minor King, but we still didn’t feel safe here. The tension was thick and palpable.
At the top of the hill they were met by an older man, balding and worn looking but tough as nails. He scowled just like Grimm and the two seemed to have a whole unspoken conversation just looking at each other.
“Emil,” Grimm said.
“Grimm,” the Captain said.
“There’s room for my men?” Grimm asked.
“There is, we have a camp on the western edge. They’re welcome to some food we just cooked up. Nicu wants to see you soon. Watch out for his Shaman, that one’s strange.”
Grimm nodded and motioned for his men to follow the Captain. Then he glanced at the Dreamweaver and they rode further into camp, approaching the tall wooden gates of the hill fort.
Horse Lords were everywhere, from all different clans, each of them in little camps surrounding their clan’s flag. The Dreamweaver saw flags with a Hawk, a grassland Lion, a Boar, a Stag, some with just Grass depicted and others with just a field of color and a Tree. There must have been hundreds of men gathered. The Dreamweaver felt outnumbered.
They dropped their horses off with two young Kingsguard soldiers and they walked into the gates and the fort of King Nicu. There were several buildings made, all out of imported wood and the largest was at the highest point of the hill with a flag fluttering in the breeze with three Horses on a bright red background. Flames seemed to be floating around the horses hooves as well.
Inside the building were more Horse Lords, leaders of the various clans seen on the hill, all surrounding the man who would be King, a tall man with long hair and just a few bones braided in. He wore a decorated vest over a bare chest with leather breeches made for riding. His boots were black and he watched the approaching men intently.
“Make way!” he said loudly, “the High King’s men are here!”
Grimm watched the men step away and clear a path to Nicu’s throne, also made of wood that had been polish and gilded with gold. It wasn’t comparable to other thrones the Dreamweaver had seen, but it was the nicest chair in the room.
“King Nicu, we are pleased to make your acquaintance,” the Dreamweaver said, bowing low for the man. Grimm bowed a bit, but not as much as he would have for the other Kings of nations.
“And I am happy to finally have you here! The most well known warrior in the High Kingdom and the man who raised the High King himself! I am pleased you have come to my simple court!”
Nicu’s voice was rich and clear. His eyes were sharp and he watched the two men very carefully. He certainly commanded presence the Dreamweaver thought, so much so that the old man didn’t see Hook or the Shaman until they were introduced.
“You have already met my right hand, Hook,” Nicu said, waving his hand towards the tall fighter. “And this man is also important to me and the clans, the Shaman Hafr.”
The Dreamweaver looked at the Shaman in surprise. He was shorter than the fighters but still a tall man, with wiry muscles and a thin frame. He wore a skinned lion’s coat and his hair was caked together with some kind of powder or mud into dreads. His eyes were shifty and strange, but the old man smiled and gave a short bow to him as well.
“Now Grimm, you know that we welcome you as the High King’s man of course, and we’re equally pleased to see the Dreamweaver, but you know our customs. You must defeat my champion in order to speak with me about the clans, so before we go any further, will you meet the challenge?”
The Dreamweaver was startled when he heard the claim. He didn’t know this was predicted, but Grimm seemed to be unfazed by the request. The old man just watched him to see what he would say.
“I know your customs King Nicu,” Grimm said, staring the whole while at Hook who was grinning confidently. “And I accept the challenge. I’ll fight your champion, gladly.”
The King made a show of looking from Grimm to Hook like he was surprised. “Oh, you don’t think that my champion is Hook do you?” he said, his smile showing that he knew Grimm would misunderstand the whole time.
“My champion is this man, named Bear by his clan,” the King said waving his arm behind him where another man stepped into view. This new man had to be over seven feet tall, close to eight and easily as big as Grimm’s warhorse. He was all muscle and little else, which could be determined by the vacant stare in his face.
Grimm snarled but nodded curtly. “I said I would face the challenge and I meant it. It doesn’t matter who it is, you will hear me as an equal!”
The Dreamweaver looked alarmed at Grimm but saw a look of determination on his face and he sighed. Grimm was obviously going to fight this giant and the old man hoped he could win. The fact that he wasn’t sure bothered him more than a bit.

***

The Xho lived in family groups either as nomads living in the desert or surrounding grasslands or living in the cities or surrounding farms along the wide river that cut through the land. Abd was the last living member of royalty where once three families ruled the nation.
Some Xho chose to remain in the cities and lived in the slums, working for the merchants or for the Host Hives. Two castles and their surrounding cities were built along the river spaced apart by a few hundred miles.
The third castle and city was built into the smoking mountain and the falling water that supplied the river ran through the city. It was a building marvel that many came to see for themselves. Abd described it to Cullen but he wanted to see it for himself.
It didn’t take long for Abd to decide that Cullen was really there to help. The two men shared a passion for their people, and a desire to fight the Host. Abd’s people had adopted the mantra, “never forget, never forgive” and it seemed that the entire race was waiting for Abd to finally fight back.
Abd saw Cullen’s arrival and desire to help as a sign that it was finally time to try and win back the cities and his people’s pride. He quickly sent word to the hundreds of families that supported him to gather in the desert where the Host never ventured.
Cullen started by training the head’s of families, teaching them how to fight, both as warriors and in a group. They would have to fight as an army and within the first few weeks, many Xho began to gather together, spreading word that Abd was going to fight back.
Cullen had his brothers and Aki and Roarr teach as well, giving the leaders special training in how to fight against the speed of the Dark Fae. They brought blacksmiths together and Roarr taught them how to make steel weapons and armor.
Within a couple months, the leaders of the Xho families could train their men, and those men could train other men and soon the desert along the wall was occupied by an army of Xho, learning and training to fight a war against enemies that had held their cities for over forty years.
Fakhri taught Cullen and his friends how to make and use explosives, both timed and triggered, which they would use once they got into the first city. Tik especially took to learning everything he could about explosives, how to create them and how to set them for different effects.
Cullen, Sonia, Anton and Tik grew tan but they still looked whiter than the Xho. Fakhri developed a paste they could wear to change their skin’s appearance. The elves and humans adopted the clothing of the Xho, wearing wide bottomed pants and robes on top that covered most of their faces.
They discovered new foods, spicy concoctions that the Xho ate regularly, different kinds of curry, and new grains and pastas. They learned to like the café drink and Roarr started smoking the tabac that they grew near the desert.
Cullen and his friends became a welcome part of the Xho community, entrusted with secrets not shared with any other nation or people. Sonia watch Cullen become friends with Abd and Fakhri, and she knew that was his gift, to become close and tied to other people, whether they were Faeries of humans, Cullen convinced people he really cared about them and their concerns.
He accepted people, whoever they were, whatever culture they came from and he made himself a part of their personal world. The Xho treated him like one of their one within just a few months.
When Deep and his team arrived, walking out of the desert wearing Kingsguard armor, they were quickly accepted into the plan, training larger groups of Xho how to fight as a team. Cullen was surprised to see soldiers arrive, but he liked Deep and the others and it made him feel like things were safe back home if the King felt comfortable sending soldiers after him to help.
Half a year went by and Cullen was finally ready to try to enter the first city. The Xho called it Alumet and it was built on the bank of the great river that flowed past. Several large farms were built outside the city walls that surrounded the castle and the city proper.
The gates to the city, both an east gate and a west gate were guarded by the Host warriors. Cullen and his friends had to get past them and into the city to pass the word to the Xho that lived there that they were going to attack the Host.