On the Road to Oak Hollow

On the Road to Oak Hollow

J. G. Green


No golden chains can bind me,
No walls can block my way.
I shun the talk of foolish men
who want me to obey.

I've led the life which suits me.
I've savored every day.
Cast-off your hollow promises
I must be on my way.

                                                                     -Old Morni Ballad


         The road from Oak Hollow to Willowstone was eerily silent as the armored regiment marched along the deserted path. A forest grew thickly about the path. Trees that appeared as giants draped in green cloaks crowded their girth above the group of soldiers who marched in unison to the beating of a tautly covered drum. The force of men numbered were swathed in crimson tunics, silver armor and gold trimmed capes that gleamed a yellow glow in the morning sun. Upon the cape was emblazoned the royal crest of Willowstone, a rearing lion bedecked with a crown. These men were no ordinary soldiers, they were the most loyal of King Erdrick's troops. An elite group of disciplined fighting men known simply as the King's Guard.
         In the distance, a bird chirped cheerfully, announcing the arrival of the warm morning sun that steadily ascended the stairs to heaven. All was peaceful, a calm respite from the recent fighting experienced by these soldiers during their recent campaign across the great wall that separated Willowstone from the lands that lie in the west. They had seen battle recently, fierce, bloody battle upon the dreary moors that blanketed the lands across the wall. Their aggressors had been of the Morni, a race of vicious barbarians who constantly threatened the peaceful kingdom of the south. Large, brooding, and violent, they knew only conquest and the thrill of battle. The Tribe of the Panther, a group who had become increasingly restless as of late, harassed the borderlands the most. Their gory axes drenched in the red blood of Willowstone's soldiers who held back the barbarians who dared to charge the wall.
         This particular regiment had been lucky, they had lost only a few men during their campaign, they still numbered in the hundreds. The fighting had been brutal, but their time of service to the king had drawn to an end. They had families to see in the south, wives and children who waited eagerly for their return with in the ivory walls of the great city of Willowstone. The seat of the king and the capital of the kingdom. Willowstone was the most glorious example of civilization that existed in the idyllic lands of the east.
         The serenity of the silent forest was soon broken by a hearty roar that arose suddenly from the thick brush along the roadside. A flock of frightened birds beat their wings noisily as they took to the air, a quiet sound quickly drowned out by the metallic clash of naked swords against steel capped skulls. The regiment had been caught off guard, they had been ambushed by wild barbarians who had managed to find away around the wall that these men had so valiantly protected. Those in the rear fell quickly to the knives which struck from the shadows. Others, were impaled while still readying their pikes and maces. Those lucky enough to survive the initial ambush rallied about the crimson standard carried before their ranks. Penned in like beasts, they awaited their attackers, crouched, weapons at the ready. The commander of the regiment, an armored knight atop a barded white steed raced to the side of his soldiers. His metallic form gleamed in the morning sun as he drew his sword high into the sky and shouted a series of commands smartly to the determined troops. The armored soldiers on the once lonely road took up their weapons and charged valiantly to meet the ravenous group of wild men that circled threateningly about them like stalking mountain cats.
         Farther up the road strode two figures; a tall, broad shouldered man with a large sword swung across his back, and a shorter, dangerous looking traveler dressed in brown leather. The hulking man wore a thick leather kilt, a red sash tied smartly about his waist sinched tightly across the center by a thick buckled belt. His chest was bare and scarred. A heavy mane of ebony hair covered his brooding brow. His companion was the opposite in every way. He stood a head shorter than the barbarian, his hair was neatly trimmed and stood about in rustled shocks of grey. His right eye was covered by a patch of leather, his everlasting trophy from a long forgotten battle. He was covered in the usual dress of a ranger, a long leather coat covering a pair of buckskin pants and a buckskin tunic. Across his waist were a pair of thin sabers that hung lazily at his side, upon his back a quiver of arrows and a oak wrought bow. They both walked with purpose, though neither knew their destination.
         "What a positively beautiful morning, wouldn't you agree Angus?" asked the smaller man looking over at his companion.
         "Aye my friend, I would be hard pressed to think of one better." said Angus admiring the light blue sky. "A pleasant breeze at our backs and not even a cloud above us."
         "That last sign we passed said that Oak Hollow was this way, what do you suppose we'll find there?" asked the man in the eye patch.
         "Not much Crow. I've wandered in these parts previously," said Angus matter-of-factly, "not much up in these border lands but farms and thick forests. That is until we reach the great wall in the north that stretches from the Kingdom of Gelder to the shores of the vast Northern Sea. Along the wall, they have little castles, mostly garrisons for the troops, and outside of them are little frontier towns."
         "Ah, and where there are frontier towns there is likely to be ale and women." said Crow gleefully, an impish grin crossing his thin lips.
         "And no doubt more people to fleece with your storytelling." said Angus with a laugh. "How many demons will I have singlehandedly faced upon King's Watch in this retelling? Forty? Fifty?"
         "I suppose whatever gets us lodgings and free ale will be sufficient." Crow said as he pondered the tale.
         Suddenly Angus stopped, his ear raised skyward, his head cocked to the side, listening. "Did you hear that?"
         "Did I hear what?" asked Crow, confused by his companion's strange behavior.
         "A sound to the north, along this road, a battle." he said in choppy sentences, all of his attention focused on a distant sound. "Come friend, a battle is being waged, our blades may be of service. There is no time to waste."
         Angus and Crow bounded quickly up the winding wooded path. The barbarian and his wiry friend, both in exquisite physical shape, did not mind the lengthy run as they covered a handful of miles in mere minutes. Ahead of them lie a scene of carnage. Dusky men clothed in tattered hides circled menacingly about a group of well armored soldiers. In their brawny hands they clutched wicked looking axes and knives, already stained red. Their movements like those of hungry beasts stalking an easy prey. Their wild eyes betraying an inborn battle lust as they set their sights upon the civilized soldiers.
         "Angus, they look like they could be friends of yours " said Crow, a surprised tone tinging his statement. As the ranger spoke, he worked quickly to string his strong oaken bow.
         "Nay, they are not friends of mine. They are Morni, but they hail from a different tribe. See how they slit the throats and cleaved the skulls of the soldiers in the back ranks?"
         "Aye, I do," said Crow, wincing as he drew an arrow from the quiver upon his back, "brutal tactic."
         "Aye, brutal and cowardly. A true Morni, of the Clan of the Bear, will face an opponent honorably, no matter the odds." said Angus eyeing the savages with a hate filled gaze, "I'm willing to bet that these savage dogs are from the Clan of the Panther. A cut-throat tribe of cowards who only want slaughter. They care not who they kill, nor how. Now, by Argoth, let us spill some of their blood."
         Angus took to his feet and burst from the bushes howling a loud battle cry in his native tongue as he charged the wild men. His massive blade held high, waiting to drop upon the brutes like the talons of a soaring hawk. Catching the marauders off guard, he was able to cleave three men in half before they could react to the charging barbarian. From the bushes, Crow sent arrows forth with deadly precision, piercing the vital areas of his enemies with each arrow he shot. His deadly missiles penetrating their flimsy hides and furs easily.
         "Come on you filthy dogs, come die on my blade " yelled Angus in challenge as the marauders closed in about him, barring their toothy grins from beneath beast headed cowls. "Come forth and let me send you to Argoth himself  For now you face a true Morni "
         Angus's blade cut down three more men as they charged him, murder in their eyes even as he delivered a killing blow. With a slash he separated one of the marauder's heads from atop his shoulders, and with another he powerful slice he cut off the knife wielding arm of another. Closer they came, and in greater numbers as all closed in about Angus. They welcomed the challenge of facing one born of their own rough lands. The black maned barbarian took down two more with a powerful swing of his long steel sword, their entrails spilling forth as they dropped lifelessly at his sandaled feet. From behind, an axe blade grazed Angus's shoulder, a knife bit at his side. Blood began to spill from a dozen wounds as the barbarian fought on. Though, he still held his own against the savages who fought more like animals now than men.
         Arrows whistled forth from the trees, dropping any who hoped to attack Angus from the back, until finally Crow's quiver was empty. With out hesitation, he drew forth his twin sabers and raced into the heat of battle. Nimbly slicing his way through a sea of sweaty sinew and bone, the ranger made to his friend at the center of the torrent. Both men fought back to back, protecting one another from the lethal tide that threatened to over take them. Their swords sung viciously in the morning sun as they slew what seemed to be an infinite number of wild men.
         Finally, the remaining soldiers of the King's Guard had regrouped about their commander. On his shouted signal, the crimson dressed guards charged the ring of wild men that held Angus and Crow at bay. The added might of the brigade was enough to turn the tide of battle in Angus's favor. He and Crow fought their way toward the royal guards as the disorganized northerners swarmed chaotically around them.
         A shout came from one of the barbarians, and the rest began to disperse into the woods. It was obvious to the savages that this was a battle they could not win. Those who were still in one piece darted for the safety of the tree line, their rough pelts camouflaging them as they melted into the tangles of branches and leaves. The wounded were quickly cut down by the axes and staves of the royal army as they tried to limp away. Angus sheathed his massive sword across his back and wiped the blood from a shallow cut above his eye with the back of his large hand. He surveyed the red stained, corpse strewn ground about his feet, a satisfied grin spreading across his bloodied face.
         "You enjoyed that?" asked his companion noticing the barbarian's wide grin.
         "Aye ranger, my people are born to slay." said Angus slapping the smaller man roughly across his shoulders, hard enough to cause him to stumble slightly. "By Argoth  Did you see their faces as I charged?"
         "You are a strange one barbarian." Crow sheathed his sabers and watched the last of the marauders flee into the bushes.
         Horse hooves pounded the ground behind the pair as the commander rode up beside them. Even though his cape was torn and his armor covered in bits of gore, he still looked the part of a regal knight. Steel carapace glowing brightly in the green tinged light of the forest. The knight dismounted, took off his heavy helm, and strode confidently before the motley pair.
         "Hail friends, t'was a pleasant circumstance that you happened upon us when you did. Zephyria has truly blessed us." the commander stated in the noble accent of a true aristocrat as he extended his gauntlet concealed hand. "I am Lord Elhorn, commander in the King's Guard and most loyal servant to his Highness, King Erdrick of Willowstone."
         "King's Guard, eh?" said Angus taking the knight's armored hand in a rough grasp and giving him an even gaze that was anything but complementary, "I expected more from your lot. You were cowering like sheep before those murdering dogs."
         "Cowering  What a crude assessment." said Elhorn indignantly releasing Angus's naked hand, "We were merely regrouping for our next charge. The King's Guard never retreats, and we certainly never cower."
         "Certainly not," said Crow, making his presence known to the knight as he stepped between the two men. "My friend here is obviously new to this land, my lord. He is merely unfamiliar in the ways of your culture, I apologize for his behavior ahead of time. I am Crow the Beastslayer and my large friend here is Angus of Grey Fogg."
         Crow shook the knight's hand eagerly. The nobleman recoiled at the mention of Grey Fogg, and a scowl crossed the knight's face as he looked back to the towering barbarian. "What are you doing in these lands Angus, so far from your native lands in the north?"
         "I am a wanderer, I am cursed with a roving foot so I travel." grunted Angus contemptuously, "Why do you ask?"
         "Is your native land of Grey Fogg not the home of these savages?" asked the knight, waving an armored arm across the battlefield before them.
         "Aye, they are Morni as am I. Though my tribe is of a prouder race, not shadow-stalking jackals like these bastards." said Angus with a look of grim pride set upon his features.
         "Hmm... yes, I suppose that make sense." said the knight, pretending the give the words of the barbarian some thought. "Due to your display of valor and prowess upon the battlefield, I would like to extend an invitation to you both to join the King's Guard. We could use strong fighters and skilled swordsmen with in our ranks."
         "To serve the king, an intriguing proposition sir, as well as a flattering one. What say you Angus?" Crow asked his companion, his thumbs hooked in his belt and his eyebrows arched slightly as he awaited the barbarian's answer. "Are you ready to fight for a cause my friend?"
         "To serve the king." Angus blurted out amongst a throaty chuckle, "Tell me knight, what does your king have to offer a strong-born Morni and his fighting bard of a friend?"
         "You both would be compensated Morni," Elhorn answered, his shocked facial expression belied his true feelings about the audacity of the northerner, "though not in the typical fashion that you are both accustomed to. His Highness is not in the business of hiring mercenaries. You would both be conscripted to serve for the span of a year along the Northern Wall. Your pay would be that of a normal foot soldier, one pence a day. All of your meals and lodging would be taken care of obviously."
         "One pence a day " Angus roared with laughter again, his booming mirth causing the soldiers around him to glance in his direction curiously. "We can make at least ten pence a day just sitting in a tavern. Even more if we pick a few pockets or pilfer a little on the side."
         "Well," the nobleman recoiled slightly in disgust at the mention of petty thievery, instinctively patting the purse at his side, "obviously you would have to leave those crude ways behind you. New recruits to the King's Guard are also kept cleanly shaven. Their long hair shorn and their faces cleared of whiskers. You would both be asked to comply of course."
         Angus and Crow both looked at each other. No spoken answer was necessary, for each knew what the other was thinking. A roguish grin spreading across their red stained faces. Angus reached out, and with no regard for the civilized rules which governed the treatment of the noble class, he gave a golden lock of Lord Elhorn's hair a little tug. The knight winced a little and raised his gauntlet-covered hand up to grasp the barbarian's thick wrist. Though he was too slow, and the barbarian pulled his hand back quickly, a toothy grin to greet the knight's scowl.
         "How dare you " fumed Elhorn, fury filling his eyes, "If you hadn't of helped us so, I would lock the both of you up right now  Savages  No better than that rabble we chased into the woods..."
         "How is it that your hair is unshorn?" interrupted Angus, "A beard graces your chin?"
         "I am a superior officer, I have earned that right barbarian." answered the knight indignantly, stroking his finely trimmed beard defensively.
         "What a lot of foolish nonsense. More civilized hypocrisy. Why should I submit to your will, or the will of your king? Have the hair chopped from my head and risk my life to guard a crumbling wall. Have my freedom to travel as I please taken away from me so that I may serve another, and for what? A pence a day, three lousy meals, and a hard cot? I have all that I need here. The bright sun, the fresh air, and the call of the open trail. My answer is no. I am a Morni, knight of Willowstone, and I serve no man."
         The knight climbed back up upon his barded steed, replaced his gleaming helm and looked down at the two men before him with an imperious glare.
         "So be it Morni," said the knight looking over to Crow, "what say you ranger?"
         "I go where Angus goes. If he says no, then my answer is no." said Crow with the wave of his hand.
         "Consider my offer is revoked. I expect you will both change your minds when times are leaner, but don't expect to find quarter amongst the ranks of the King's Guard, for you will find none. Good day gentlemen." with those parting words the knight rode away, his troops marching in tight formation behind him as they fell into their ranks. The dead had been cleared, from the roadway. Those dead from Willowstone had been collected and were being transported back to the walled city for a proper burial. The remains of the slaughtered savages had unceremoniously tossed into the forest that lined the road.
         "We may have turned down a good thing my friend." said Crow as he watched the regiment march its way down the road in straightly filed lines.
         "Nay Crow, joining them would have been no better than a prison sentence. We would have given up freedom for the promise of prestige." said Angus reflectively as they both turned away from the sight of the marching soldiers and began once again toward the town of Oak Hollow.