CHAPTER 4 - GLADIATORS - Part 1

CHAPTER FOUR
GLADIATORS

In the Great Swamp of Dustan, the whole city gathered to see the Marshking off. The Kingsguard lined the wooden streets that were raised on poles above the murky water and held back the crowd that truly loved their King.
King Adrian was mounted on a chestnut mare that was tall and proud. His son, Alin, was on a smaller horse, a pinto that was wide and sturdy. His wife, the Queen Laura and their daughter, Ana were both in a carriage drawn by a pair of white horses that were trimmed with gold pennants.
The entire city had stopped their day to see the King and his family leave their small castle and prepare for their ride to Holdfast. The day was sunny and clear with sunlight rippling through the swamp trees, illuminating the many colors of green that surrounded the line of people following their King.
A few marsh nobles would ride with the King and half his militia, dressed in green with the royal frog emblem sewn onto the tabards. They carried their long spears with triple points like tridents that the fishermen used.
It was a small but royal procession that crossed the city and started on the raised road that cut through the swamp and led to the drier parts of Dustan and then to Holdfast. The royal family was excited by the event of the tourney and all of them looked forward to the games.
King Adrian wanted his son to marry one of King Simon’s daughters. The two families had been close since they became part of the greater High Kingdom, and both families had children that had come of age and were ready for marriage.
Tying together the two cities would be beneficial for them both as well as for the stability of the greater Kingdom. To have two royal families become one would be welcomed by the High King Adrian was sure.
His Kingdom wasn’t rich, but it was successful in its fishing and farming and his family stretched back for hundreds of years. His was a quiet Kingdom and his family was well loved and respected. The Church had a strong presence in Dustan and the Godsmen who lived there enhanced the overall Kingdom, making Adrian well respected throughout the Realm.
Behind the royal train and the following nobles came a large group of Godsmen, coming to visit the main Church in Holdfast. It was the Church and her soldiers that had made the difference when High King Remus attempted to make the five Kingdoms into one.
The Godsmen had tipped the balance and now they had a Church in every land except Rath which still held out with Shamans and witchcraft. The marshland Godsmen were also excited to visit the main church and meet the Bishop who was the authority of the Church.
The procession was full of happy, hopeful people, committed to strengthening the High Kingdom by gathering together and showing loyalty to the High King. King Adrian rode at the head of a proud line and his city was supportive of his journey.

***

In Vess it was much the same. The miners had been given the day off and the whole city came out to see there King leave the city, headed for the High King’s tournament. King Simon rode a majestic deep red stallion and his wife Horia rode a gray mare beside him. Their daughters Nelu and Ioan were in a gilded carriage driven by four white horses and guided by the Horsemaster of the Palace.
Nobles from all over Vess rode behind the royal carriage, with their own entourages in tow. It was a long chain of men and woman that rode out peacefully from the Palace through the city where flags and pennants had been raised to wave them off.
One hundred militia rode with them as an honor guard, decked out in their gold tabards with long spears raised high. The King expected now trouble, but some of his men would like to compete in the games and so they were invited to march along with the royal party.
Simon hoped to marry one of his daughters to Adrian’s son Alin this year and the tournament would be a proper place to discuss it. His eldest had become a beauty like her mother and the younger sister was as bright as her teachers. Both of them would be a good wife and Simon hoped Alin would find one of them attractive.
Setting the two families together would unite the High Kingdom in new ways. Simon also wanted to talk to the High King about his son Cullen, and perhaps wedding his other daughter to that family as well.
He knew Cullen was a mighty warrior already, and was said to have a mate, but young love was often discarded for political ties with other Kingdoms. Surely King Remus had explained such things to his son. Simon wondered if Adrian had similar hopes for his own daughters.
Simon and Adrian had become close, writing each other letters every month, forging a bond between them that would benefit both families. Simon knew Adrian’s family was poor when brought to match again his own vast wealth, but Adrian’s family was heavily religious and good people, and royal even if they weren’t rich. Adrian’s son would be a good match and would come to learn about guiding the wealth of Vess in the right direction.
Simon was excited about the games and discussions or marriage and he joyfully smiled and waved at his city as he rode past. His wife looked radiant and she waved as well, riding properly beside him as a Queen should.
It had been many years since the High King had invited the other minor Kings to Holdfast, and this time it was because a new King had joined the ranks. This King Nicu, Simon thought, is probably just as savage as his people, but we will greet him as an equal and see how he measures up.
The raids had slowed down since Grimm had come through and that had to be a good sign Simon guessed. Perhaps Nicu was in fact uniting all the tribes together into a nation of responsible people that could work with the rest of the Realm.
He shook his head, thinking of all his experiences trying to work with Rathian chieftains. Then again, he was likely a savage grasping at power just like those before him. Simon would wait to pass final judgment but he was betting that Nicu was just another tribesman that was reaching for fame and glory.

***

King Cosmin rode a massive war charger and wore his full outfit of armor to ride to the tourney. Behind him were his own knights, dressed in gray suits of armor with the Seawolf emblem and looking grim as they rode. His knights would be eager to fight at the games and pit themselves against the nobles of the other Kingdoms.
Riding alongside him were his very best Knights, the men who ruled with him and guarded the borders against the incursion of Rathian Horse Lords. The Nightlands in his pitch black armor, with the Destroyer in his flaming red armor and next to them, Starlight in his armor that looked like the night sky.
All three were huge men and they all rode large war trained horses. They were followed by their own contingents of knights, men who were sworn to their service and would follow them through hell.
Seawatch was a small Kingdom but populated by a hard people that worked their sparse land to the best of their ability and guarded it like no other armed force in the known world.
Knights from Seawatch always won the games and Cosmin would bet that they would win this year as well. He also wanted to get a good look at this Nicu Horse Lord that would be King of his people.
Cosmin wanted to look him in the eye and then he would know if the man was honest or a liar. He would measure him with one look and that would tell him what he needed to know. Was Rath going to become a strong united force that would extend its boundaries, or would they be peaceful neighbors that would trade and keep the borders as they were?
Cosmin looked out over the cliffs as he left his dark castle, the workers of the castle lined up to see their King off. He ignored them while they did their duty and he glanced back to make sure his knights were lined up properly. It wouldn’t do to have a crooked line as they marched.
Cosmin wondered if the other two Kings were going to finally marry off their children this year. He thought the children were of age finally. That would strengthen the bonds between their two Kingdoms. Cosmin wondered how that would affect his own smaller land.
He had yet to announce a successor and he knew everyone wondered at who would inherit his Kingdom when he died. He was an old man, but he didn’t plan on dying soon. He had always assumed himself that he would give the kingdom to the strongest Knight, but the Nightlands wasn’t a man to rule a land.
You had to be righteous and tough to run a Kingdom, but the Nightlands was a cold man, without much feeling for the people that he ruled. You couldn’t be weak but you had to have some compassion for the serfs and the little people that helped the Kingdom run.
The Destroyer was a more passionate man but he was angry and that anger washed over into a lot of his decisions. He would lose his temper at the smallest thing and then would fume for days over it. It wasn’t a strong quality in a ruler.
But Starlight, while the third best of his Knights, was a calm thoughtful man who weighed his decisions well. He thought before he spoke, and he was concerned about the people around him. And he was young, young enough to take on the burdens of Kingship.
Perhaps the tournament was the place to announce a successor. He would have the whole High Kingdom gathered and together he and Starlight could determine what kind of man Nicu was. Together they could plan how to respond to him and his rule.
Yes, Cosmin thought, Starlight is my best choice and the tournament the proper place to make the announcement. He chuckled to himself, thinking how much trouble the Destroyer would give him after being passed over. But the Nightlands wouldn’t let that fire bloom out of control. He would keep the others in line, cold bastard that he was.
When we arrive, I will tell the High King my choice. I’m glad I decided, he thought. And he smiled within his helmet. He urged his horse into trot and left the other to catch up.

***

Nicu sat on his horse at the end of the grasslands, just before the ground turned to hills and fields. Next to him were Hook and Hafr. All three men looked out over the land in front of them.
Nicu turned to Hook and made eye contact before he spoke. “Each chieftain knows what to do? Are we absolutely sure they can each pull this off?”
Hook grinned and nodded once, “Yes my King. I met with each of them and I am sure they can do this. Hafr needs to ride ahead of us and meet with the Bishop, but the Chieftains are already one their way.”
“And all the other Kings have left for the tourney?” Nicu asked, for the fifth time that morning.
“Yes my King. The cities are left with just Kingsguard and some militia. Once they see what happens to the Kingsguard, they will fall in line. Stop worrying about what’s already done and start thinking about what you have to do.” Hook slapped Nicu on the shoulder with his large square hand.
“And send this Shaman off already!” he added.
Nicu turned to look at the Shaman. He was astride his rangy horse, covered in the fur of a grasslands lion, with the head still attached and worn like a hat over his own head. The front paws had been tied on his chest to hold it steady and he grinned his broken tooth smile at his King.
“Go then Hafr, weave your magic around that fat Bishop and make him mine,” he commanded.
Hafr lowered his head in a short bow. “As you command my King.” And he nudged his horse into action. He sped off at a gallop, riding to reach Holdfast before the rest of the Rathians.
“And the other tribes know to come a day after us, and then the next a day after that?” Nicu asked again.
“Yes my King,” Hook answered once again. “The loose tribes will come, staggered after us, to occupy and overwhelm Holdfast. The plan is sound, the men ready, all you need to do is ride to see the High King and keep your sword sharp.”
Nicu allowed himself a small smile. He could see his plan happening, his Rathians spreading out across the High Kingdom, thousands of Horse Lords riding across the hills and valley, across the cliffs and swamps, until they overran the world.
Grimm was still wounded and Remus’s son Cullen was still missing. Everything would go according to plan and soon Nicu would be more than just the King of the Horse Lords. He would be High King!
He set his horse forward at a trot and behind him hundreds of men rode with him, Hook at his side, guarding him against all dangers. Hook would have his revenge against Grimm for killing his father all those years ago, and Nicu would take over the Kingdom and change history.

***

Cezar, Captain of the Kingsguard in Dustan, walked with his men towards the buildings that had been reported. A fisherman said he had seen strange men gathered around the abandoned huts at the edge of the city.
Cezar had brought twenty men with him since the fisherman had said it was a large gathering of men. From a distance, looking from the standing path that connected buildings in the city, the huts still looked abandoned. But someone could be watching for his men from inside.
There were five huts, all connected together by standing paths that raised them above the water. There were several boats tied up to the houses but no smoke coming from the chimneys or other signs of life.
Cezar was a young Captain, named after the High King’s father, King Cezar, who had been an outstanding general of his armed forces. He would have united the known world if he hadn’t been killed by a stray arrow.
Cezar had been given this post, as the Kingsguard Captain of Dustan by the Captain of Captains himself, Grimm Longshanks. He had admired the warrior as he grew up in the ranks of the soldier’s barracks and he earned this post and he meant to keep it.
Something was wrong about these huts, something that made Cezar very wary. His men, lined up behind him, all fidgeted and moved, wondering why they weren’t hoping in boats to go inspect the buildings.
That bothered him right away. The standing paths that should connect those huts to the rest of the city were gone. They had to reach the huts by boat, which would make them easy targets if there was an enemy inside.
“Go get the rest of the men,” he said to the lieutenant beside him. “I want every man we have here.”
“But sir, it’s just a few empty huts,” the man said, unsure about the command.
“Do as I say Drum, go get the men.” Cezar was sure something was wrong here and he meant to be as safe as he could about it. This whole area had been abandoned and left to rot, but Cezar didn’t know why.
He decided he would find out why no one lived in this area anymore when they got back to the castle. Many of the Kingsguard went with King Adrian to the tourney and Cezar was left with fifty good men.
The houses behind him were dark and doors hung open. But those houses across the water there, the fisherman said the men grouped around them had vests and things tied in their hair. Cezar knew what that sounded like; it made him think of Rathians.
Rathians hadn’t been seen since the attempt on the King, but Cezar had been keeping a careful eye out for them to show up and try something again. Perhaps that was this time. He watched the houses unerringly while he waited for his men to arrive.
After a while, as he crouched on the edge of the dock, thirty more men arrived, carrying spears and swords and bows. Cezar thought he would send a few men on boats over to see if someone was hiding in the buildings and then leave the rest of the men to guard them with their bows, ready to shoot anyone who came out of the huts.
“I want twenty men in these boats here,” Cezar commanded as he pointed to the boast tied to the dock. “And the rest of you I want with bows ready, facing those huts in case someone steps out. If we are in danger then kill whoever you see.”
The men shuffled about, some moving into boats and the others pulling arrows and knocking their bows. They lined up along the dock and pathway, standing in a neat row, ready to guard their Captain.
Behind them stood a row of empty houses that Cezar was going to have searched and boarded up after this action. He wouldn’t allow any of the areas of the city not in use to become hiding places for enemies of the crown.
He got into one of the four boats that would cross the swamp and stepped to the front of the boat, with one foot up on the edge and his eyes focused on the huts again. His men started rowing across and he watched for movement.
Halfway across, at the point when they couldn’t return quickly, nor could they reach the other side quickly, the attack came. Cezar heard the cries of his men behind him and he turned to look at the dock where they had come from.
Rathian fighters were attacking his men from behind like cowards with swords and knives, cutting them down before they could use their bows or pull out their own swords. Cezar ordered the boats turned around and told some of his men to fire at the Rathians now.
Then out of the corner of his eye he saw movement at the abandoned huts they were headed for. He spun to see more Rathians come out, these with bows and they fired arrows at the boats.
Cezar heard his men dying all around him and inch thick black arrows sped past him and sunk into his men. He saw a single man, tall with many bones in his hair pull out an arrow with an oversized head. Cezar thought it looked strange as an abstract thought as he watched the man ready his arrow.
Cezar didn’t know what to do. He was trapped, surrounded by dead men that counted on him to lead them safely and now he was standing on the bow of a rowboat looking at a man prepare an arrow that was clearly for him.
He couldn’t dodge, but maybe he could catch the arrow with his sword, he thought as he quickly grabbed at the handle. He was still pulling his sword free when the arrow hit him in the head, harder than he thought it should and he fell down in the boat into darkness.

***

Captain Oana of the Kingsguard in Vess rode with his men along the known border of Rath. There had been some reports of Rathian raiders along the border in a small village a few miles away from the normal patrol.
Oana was a middle aged man, who had taken what was thought to be an easy post. Because Vess was so wealthy, having gold mines right behind the city, everyone thought it was a simple job of guard the mines.
Oana knew that it was quite different in the rest of Vess especially along the border where they had skirmishes with the Horse Lords all the time. Fortunately the Rathian bands were small and fifty Kingsguard, well trained, armed and armored, could usually send the scoundrels running back to the high grasslands of Rath pretty quickly.
A farmer had arrived along their route, saying that Rathian had stormed their village and were taking everything in sight. Oana spurred his horse ahead and they went riding at a gallop to find the village and track the men after they ran back into Rath.
Oana wondered why so many villages were on the border since it was pretty common that Rathians would raid them. He didn’t understand why they didn’t just build their villages further in, maybe a few days away from the border to avoid trouble. But farmers looked for certain soils and apparently these were good.
Oana’s men were made of both young men who had just joined and older men who had been hunting Rathians for many years. He made sure the older men rode with the younger men, keeping them from losing control in the excitement of confrontation.
He remembered his first battle with a Rathian, not so long ago. He had been with a troupe coming to investigate the same sort of rumor he was headed for now. A village had been attacked and the Kingsguard must answer.
They saw smoke from a few miles off and they rode quickly to arrive in a village in flames. People were running down the road in fear and Rathian were chasing them with their horses, cutting people down in the road.
Oana had spurred his horse ahead and found himself facing a giant of a man, with hundreds of finger bones in his hair, his vest flapping in the wind and he rode. Oana had drawn his sword and was an accomplished rider and he swung at the Rathian’s head as they neared each other.
He missed the first swing, and almost unhorsed himself turning his mount around to come back and face the man again. The two of them rode back and forth, taking swings at each other, while all around him other soldiers fought with other men.
The screams of horses and men were overwhelming at that time, and Oana felt pulled in a hundred directions. He tried to focus on the one man but others rode past and attacked his fellow soldiers and he worried he was focused on the wrong man or the wrong thing.
After a few passes, they finally found themselves facing each other, side to side and hacking at each other with abandon. It wasn’t the fighting in story books, but it was brutal and harsh, chopping at each other like trees, hoping to cut deep enough to kill.
Oana killed that man eventually and later found out he was the chieftain of the tribe and it was an important kill. He earned the name ‘chief killer’ that day, but he was rarely called that anymore.
As he and his men neared the village ahead, he could see smoke, just like that day, and he assumed this would be the same. Charge into the village, find it destroyed, chase the Rathian band into the grass and cut them down, recover what they could and set the village to rights.
His men behind him, he galloped into the village and found its buildings all alight, burning with thick smoke coming off them and he looked for the direction the band went. Not far away where the grass grew so high you could only see over it by horse, he saw the shift in the grass that told him men had ridden there.
He shouted and directed his men to follow him and they rode into the grasses of Rath. Oana looked ahead to see the tops of riders before him and within a mile he could see men ahead riding through the grass.
He spurred his horse to go faster and he pulled his sword free. His horse had been with him for three years and they were a perfect team. With just a few touches the horse knew this was the sprint he was made for, rushing through the grass to catch the enemy.
Oana saw his foe, not far ahead and he focused on the back of the man’s head, and the more men beyond him. He leaned up on his stirrups, getting a good stance for fighting. He was still looking at the enemies back when his horse vanished from under him.
He hit the ground so hard he dislocated his shoulder. While tumbling through the grass he lost his sword and all knowledge of where he was. He finally collapsed in a heap twenty feet away from where he hit.
He heard the screams of horse as his men piled up somewhere between where he was and where the rope was that was being used to trip the horses. Then he heard the screams of his men as they were systematically slaughtered where they fell.
Oana pushed himself to his feet and looked for his sword. He pushed his way through the grass searching, his eyes darting around looking for a flash of iron.
“Here he is!” a voice said from behind him. “The Chief Killer!”
Oana spun to look at the voice and he saw a group of Rathian standing, laughing at him as he searched. He held his torn shoulder with one hand and blood ran down his face as he peered up at the men.
The one who spoke advanced and Oana tried to stand tall to face him. “Not much of a fight in you today, is there?” the man asked as he came closer. “Don’t worry; we have use for you still.”
The man came quick and swung a sword at Oana’s head. He tried to duck, but the pain in his shoulder made him stop and the sword hit him broadside across the temple. He dropped into darkness, alone in the grasses of Rath.

***

Captain Ion of Seawatch rode with his men in search of the band who had crossed furthest into Seawatch. He had been chasing the group for a full day now, after receiving reports that they had come miles into Seawatch’s Kingdom and attacked multiple sites. It seemed like this band was taunting the Kingsguard and Ion had gathered all of them together to go put an end to it.
Ion’s men were a hardened group of fighters that had been warring with the Rathians for years. They didn’t like this new attack, a band coming so far into the territory and attacking citizens. The local knights had done some fighting and said this band was big, so Ion brought all of his men with him.
They had followed reports and attacks all the way back to the border and they realized they would have to go into Rath to catch them. King Cosmin would have demanded they go in and the High King would allow it as well, and since he was the authority that Ion answered to, he was ready to go to the center of Rath to find this particular band.
They had attacked towns and villages, burning them to the ground and displacing many people. They had raped and pillaged, more than usual, going too far this time, as though they didn’t care that someone would come after them.
Ion rode at a good pace, keeping his men sharp and ready for any kind of counter attack. His men were one of the best teams in the field, and they trained for ambushes and sneak attacks. When they rode into the bush as they called it, they were careful.
They arrived at the edge of the grasslands and carefully rode in, sending three men ahead to scout the way. Ion stood high in his stirrups and watch for smoke or riders or any sign that they were somewhere ahead. In the distance he though he saw smoke from a campfire.
Ion brought his men close and had them spread out so they wouldn’t be caught as a group. They rode on and the scouts came back to say that it was a small camp and a few Rathian’s where there in a clearing. Ion would have to question them and see if the band broke up already or if these were other men not involved.
Ion was a fighter, but a fair man. If these people ahead of him had nothing to do with the attacks, he wouldn’t trouble them. If they did however, there would be retribution as a certainty.
Ion led his fifty men into the clearing and saw a small camp of four men and a fire. All four of them stood when they saw the Kingsguard riding in. Their camp was close to one side of the clearing, close enough for them to dart into the brush, and Ion watched them carefully.
“You there!” he called. “Are you alone?”
“Don’t we look alone Kingsguard?” one of them men called back.
“I’m looking for a band that has been riding in Seawatch. If you’re a part of that band, we have trouble; if not then just answer my questions.” Ion led his men farther in and they began to spread out.
“Well, we are free men and we don’t want to answer questions from the High King’s men!” the man shouted, maybe a little too loud Ion thought. Was he signaling someone?
“I’m afraid that until there’s a different King in charge, you’ll have to deal with me,” Ion said confidently.
Then the grass opened up and Rathian poured free into the clearing. All of them had bows and they were shooting their giant arrows into his men.
Screams of horses and men sounded all around him and the men he had been talking to were rushing at him. They surrounded his horse and dragged him out of his saddle before he could pull his blade.
“A new King is what we’re gonna get!” the man shouted in his face as they pulled him to the ground. He could see a least a hundred Rathians rushing about killing his men before the fists that hit him knocked him out. Within seconds he was out clod and didn’t understand what had happened to him or his men.

***

Captain Emil of the Kingsguard in Rath knew something was wrong. He stood in the doorway of his barracks on the hill and watched the Rathians gather. He could see off the hill as well and literally thousands of men were gathering below.
He knew Rath was heavily populated, but he never thought he’d see so many tribes in one place. Nicu had certainly won some kind of acclaim and men were coming from all corners to rally at his side.
Nicu had left a week ago and taken many tribes with him as an honor guard, he called it. Emil thought it was to make him look important and to have men with him in case the High King thought to challenge his hold on Rath.
Of course the High King just wanted to have the tourney and meet with Nicu, see what kind of man he was. King Remus still had enough well trained men that he could enter Rath and put down a rebellion, but that was if the tribes still fought amongst themselves.
Here in front of him however, it looked as though many of the tribe were getting along just fine. This would never do. Emil needed to send a man to the High King to warn him. He had to know that this many man were coming to Nicu’s banner.
He turned back into the building and thought about who he should select for the job. It would have to be a smart man, a man that could look after himself on the road, especially while he got out of Rath. A single Kingsguard could be killed pretty quickly by a Rathian band out for blood.
He thought of the fifty men he had stationed with him, the best man would be Briq. He was sharp and well read, fast with a blade and a good enough rider to out run most Rathians. He was older than Emil and would understand the need for the task.
He entered the men’s area and looked across the gathered men that were off duty for the man he wanted. Briq was sitting alone reading a book. He was leaning on his cot, with his armor and weapons oiled and close by as a good soldier should.
“Briq! I need you!” Emil called across the chamber.
Briq dropped his book and stood up quickly. He made eye contact, nodded and gathered his stuff. He put on his armor fast and had his sword buckled and ready to go in just moments.
Emil was already back in his office when Briq entered. He didn’t say a word, just stood at attention by the single empty chair. Emil looked him over and then motioned for his to sit.
“Briq, you’re a smart man,” he began. “You can see what’s happening here in Rath?”
“You mean the amount of tribes gathering?” Briq asked. “I’ve noticed.”
“Good,” Emil responded. “I need a man who understand what that could mean to ride to Holdfast and tell the High King.”
“I can do that,” Briq answered calmly. “When do I leave?” he asked.
“Right now,” Emil informed him. His eyebrows went up but he didn’t flinch. He stood back up, saluted and said, “I’ll be on my way then.”
Emil stood as well and offered his hand. Briq shook his arm, the way warriors do and then walked out of the office. Emil followed him and stood by the door again, watching Briq get his saddle ready.
Within just a few minutes, Briq was mounted and had provisions attached to the saddle bags. He nodded once to the Captain and then rode slowly away from the barracks. Emil watched him ride through the village on the hill and then go down the switchback path that led down to the grasslands below.
Emil watched him ride through the gathered tribes and start on the road out of Rath. He was still watching when someone in the crowd fired an arrow into Briq’s back and he fell off his horse.
Emil turned and ran into the barracks shouting that they were under attack. Men leaped up in surprise and grabbed their weapons. Rathians stormed through the door seconds later and the killing began. Men piled through the doorway, coming at Emil and his men, dying to reach them. Men just kept coming, no matter how many they killed.
Emil was cut pretty badly by one man but another pushed him out of the way and attacked Emil with the flat of his blade. Emil understood then that he was wanted alive but he still fought on.
He killed two more men before a lucky blow knocked him senseless. He fell in his own barracks, surrounded by his own men as they died in his service. He knew that he didn’t want to wake from this hell, but he also knew that he would.