The Lone Traveler - Part Eighteen

The Lone Traveler

Chapter Eighteen

Early the next morning, Pieter, Elise, and Talina slowly walked through the ruined village. Dead men littered the bloody and burned ground, and further out into the open flat land, numerous knights and horses lay in sad broken heaps, lance shafts penetrating their bodies and scorpion bolts stuck deep into armor and chain mail. Here and there were the bodies of enemy knights, many burned beyond recognition by the incendiary bombs dropped by the Riders, their flesh cooked inside their armored shells like overgrown lobsters.

Occasionally, the bodies of burned war birds and dragons with massive shafts lay in giant torn heaps. The devastation to the Dragon Riders and Valkyri had been severe. Almost a third of the great war birds and seven of the mighty dragons along with their brave riders had been lost before the Wing Commander finally pulled them out of the decimating assault. The great white dragon that Analia had ridden was found in a small clearing in the forest, his wing penetrated by a deadly shaft. Fortunately, he would recover and time would heal his severe wound. He refused to allow anyone but Talina to attend to him because she had heard Analia call him Whiff, and he responded to her use of that name.

They were searching for the body of Analia, hoping against hope that they would not find it, but, since her dragon had survived the engagement, it lent hope and urgency to their quest. Ser Thoragild had allotted them only one bell to make the search because he was marshalling his forces, along with those left of Alataria and their newest allies, the Viturians, to follow the retreating Angalund Army and lift the siege of Alataria. King Charles of Vituria insisted that Ser Thoragild retain command of the allied armies, noting that he was merely along for the adventure and to give his son, Jean Claude, some exposure to the rigors of a real campaign and the possible excitement of battle.

“According to one of her squadron mates, she went down by that building over there,” Talina stated pointing at a half ruined stone inn.

“We searched all around the building, “Pieter replied. “There was no sign of her.”

“She was taken captive,” Elise muttered, pointing down at the torn up earth. What she was pointing to was a mystery to them; the entire area was full of footprints, scuff marks, drag marks, spent bolts, pieces of equipment and armor, and numerous blood trails.

“Analia wore a boot with a crescent scar on the left heel,” Elise casually returned. She pointed to a small footprint indicating a crescent scar on the heel of the left boot. The footprint was much smaller than the boot prints around it. “She was drug over to this point,” Elise continued following drag marks in the dirt. “Then, she was hefted up and carried about ten feet and finally sat down over there.” She walked about six paces towards the main road and pointed to where the small print stood out. “From this point, the print is mingled with the print of a much larger man and often covered by other retreating boot prints.”

“You are the greatest tracker in the army,” Pieter whistled. “How did you know that Analia had a crescent scar on her boot heel?”

“The same way I know that you have a small piece of your right heel missing, and Talina has a crack running through her left sole,” Elise smiled, pointing at the prints the two had left behind. The marks she noted were there on the dusty ground for all to see. “It’s a simple matter of paying close attention to your surroundings,” Elise continued. “Sometimes you can even tell if a mark comes from a certain person just by the depth of a print in one area, indicating the person favors that particular foot over the other.”

“Captive,” Talina whispered.

“There’s still hope then,” Pieter stated. “We better get back and inform Ser Thoragild, our time is almost up.”

“Knowing that she is not dead will lift his spirit,” Talina returned with a smile. “We all know what a very resourceful person Analia can be.

“Sometimes that is not enough,” Elise slowly replied. “Oftentimes a friend or just a good and kind person can make all the difference in the world.” She was referring to how Ser Thoragild had found and helped her, changing her life from one of continual despair and daily survival into one of hope and destiny. She also knew that he loved and cherished his niece. “Tell Ser Thoragild I will find her and bring her back,” Elise stated. Then, without so much as a glance behind her, she started jogging down the dusty road.

“She didn’t even take her horse,” Pieter remarked.

Talina smiled. “A cute girl on a nice horse would make her a target for anyone having a bad day. She knows what she’s doing. She’s a real survivor.”

Lord Alwaythe folded the crisp document and dripped wax over the crease, waiting a few minutes for the wax to solidify. He then removed his signet ring and pressed it down on the soft wax, sealing the document. He waved the document in the air for a few moments then handed it to his senior Knight, Ser Handsohn. “Duly witnessed and officially sealed,” he smiled. “A copy has been given to His Royal Highness, King Charles for safekeeping and this one will accompany me back to Camalund in the possession of Ser Handsohn, who will place it in the royal archives.

Lord Alwaythe poured a goblet of wine and held it up. “To my heir,” he stated, taking a deep sip of the light red brew. He passed the goblet to David indicating that he should drink. David took the chalice and copied Lord Allwaythe’s move. “You will be Lord of Donedon Province when I go to join our fathers in the afterlife. Ours is a proud and honorable line, I expect you will continue that honor and prestige.”

“This I vow before our esteemed witnesses,” David replied, glancing at the important knights and household notables standing in the large tent. “The name of Alwaythe will forever stand for honor, courage, and might.”

“I leave for Camalund within the hour,” Lord Alwaythe smiled. “You will remain here as my representative and serve Ser Thoragild as I would have.” He narrowed his eyes at the last statement and nodded his head as if imparting a secret missive.

“As you command,” David bowed, moving to leave the tent.

“One last thing,” Lord Alwaythe stated, rising from his chair. He unbuckled his beautiful sword in its battle scared scabbard, removed the sword and passed the scabbard to David. “This sword has been in our family for generations. It is a battle sword used to bring justice to our enemies, not a ceremonial sword. Wear it proudly in battle and use it as befitting the future Lord of Donedon. Use it to avenge any slight to our family name. Kneel Squire David.”

David did as his father requested. Lord Alwaythe took the sword and touched each shoulder. “By the authority vested in me as a Lord of the realm, and on behalf of Her Majesty, Queen Regent Denize, I dub thee, Ser David Thomas Ignacious Alwaythe. Rise Ser David.” He had left out parts of the knight’s oath, to serve the realm, protect the poor, and display honor above all else, but that would already be written in the official documents.

As David left the stale smelly tent, Pieter was waiting outside in the fresh air. He had not been invited to the official ceremony as he was not a sworn member of the family or a loyal family servant. Technically, once David succeeded to the Lordship, Pieter would soon be his to command as Lord Alwaythe was liege lord to Pieter’s late father. The idea struck David as ironic. One moment he was a bastard son with no name or tile, the next he was the future Lord of a powerful province.

“Congratulations David,” Pieter said, raising his hand in salute. “Your father made a wise choice in making you his heir.”

David returned the salute. “That’s Ser David, Squire Pieter. I hope that someday, as heir to your father’s estate, you will renew your pledge of fealty to me and Donedon.”

“Until that day comes, I will proudly fight at your side against our common enemies,” Pieter replied. “All for one and one for all. Come, let’s tell Ser Thoragild of your great news… Ser David.”



“A disaster!” Queen Denize yelled waving a missive she had just received from the battle front. “Ser Thoragild allowed over twelve thousands of our knights and mounted infantry to be slaughtered or captured by the Angalunders. In addition, nearly half of the Dragon Riders and War Birds were lost. This is a complete disgrace!” She threw the paper down on the large table around which sat the Royal Council.

They squirmed in their seats as she continued her lengthy tirade. When she finally ran out of breath having used every curse word in her capacious vocabulary, Lord Smythwaite spoke. “The man is too old for command,” he stated. “What we need is fresh, young blood, to lead our armies to victory. I was commenting on that very subject with His Holiness, Cardinal Vicarius, a few days past. Isn’t that correct, Your Holiness?”

Cardinal Vicarius cleared his massive throat and slid forward in his chair to allow his rotund arms to rest on the heavy table. “So true,” he replied glancing sidelong at the Queen. “Ser Thoragild did not deign to seek the blessing of the Church before he left for battle. “A disgrace. No small wonder that the Lord allowed such a disaster to befall the army.”

“I assume you have a suggestion as to who might take command of the army should Ser Thoragild be relieved of his duties?” Queen Denize asked. She was aware that the subject had been broached on many separate occasions. Her well paid informers told her that the Cardinal and Lord Smythwaite had become overly close during the past few weeks. “Is there a Lord among you that has the ability and war record that can match or surpass that of Ser Thoragild?”

“I have a document just recently arrived from Emperor Licinius of Lugdunum,” Cardinal Vicarius muttered,” holding up a large piece of vellum with the Church seal stamped on it. “Emperor Licinius has informed the Church that he would graciously assume command of the allied forces as his personal remittance for joining in our fight against Angalund.”

“Just why did Emperor Licinius communicate his offer through the church and not through normal diplomatic channels?” Queen Deinze slyly questioned.

Lord Smythwaite held up his hand to stop the bumbling Cardinal from replying. “I am the one who generated the correspondence through Church channels,” he stated. “As leader of the Royal Council I discovered that royal communication channels had been compromised by men working for the enemy. They have since been removed and replaced. I felt it safer to use other channels and His Holiness offered the services of the Church. Few would dare interfere with Church business. The full council is aware of the change.”

“I assume you were going to eventually advise the Queen Regent of those changes?” Queen Denize snarled, casting a withering glance at the men sitting around the table.”

“I did not think the Queen Regent needed to be bothered by something as mundane and trivial as mail problems,” Lord Smythwaite replied in a smooth cool voice. “I will see to it that you receive copies of all missives in the future.”

Only the ones he wants me to see, Queen Denize thought. The sly bastard is making a move to consolidate his power, right under my nose. I am not so dull-witted to think his replacement of the Royal messengers was nothing but his gambit to control all communication in and out of the realm.

“What of the Emperor’s offer,” she genially smiled. “I assume you and your council has taken it under advisement?”

“Emperor Licinius is a proven field tactician and well known General,” Lord Johnstone replied. “Although his army is based around different tactics than ours, he is well versed in the proper and effective use of our tactics.”

“He conquered the land to the south of Lugdunum with less than half the forces of his enemy” Lord Thomisen injected. “The man knows what he is doing in battle. He may be young, but at thirty years he is full of strength, audacity, and vigor.”

“You are seriously suggesting that we place the safety and security of the realm in the hands of a potential adversary?” Queen Denize stated. “Lugdunum has never been a close friend to Camalund, and is known they have fought against our ally, Vituria on past occasions.”

“Border skirmishes just like the ones we’ve had with Alataria and Vituria,” Lord Smythwaite smoothly replied. “As a sign of his fealty, Emperor Licinius has indicated that he will allow his young son and Empress Juliana to reside at your court throughout the campaign.”

Hostages, Queen Denize thought. Smythwaite has something to gain from this. The fat tub of lard would not be so adamant about it otherwise. I know he hates Ryykon, but would he endanger the entire kingdom over hatred? He and that butter-ball Cardinal have something more sinister planned.

“What shall we do with Ser Thoragild?” she asked. “The man has served the realm faithfully for very many years.”

“There is a large parcel of land in the northwest part of the kingdom which he could be granted for his honorable services to the crown,” Lord Smythwaite casually replied. “That, along with the title of Lord should be justifiable compensation.”

There’s nothing out that way but muddy swamps and rocks, Queen Denize thought. The land can’t even be farmed and only a few shepherds and wild men live in the area. Ryykon would immediately know it for the gift that it was, utterly farcical.

“I am inclined to place my full trust in Emperor Licinius in abeyance until such time as he has proven himself,” Queen Denize stated. “I will approve his command of the combined armies, but, I insist that Ser Thoragild remain as second in command. That is my decision, end of discussion.” She quickly but regally left the chambers.

Much later, in her private chambers, she reiterated the subject with Lord Smythwaite, pointing out that she was displeased with his actions and would initiate disciplinary proceedings should he continue to secretly defy her. He was adamant that he had no desire for the crown, and would further inform her of council matters in advance.

“What of this?” Queen Denize asked, throwing a scrap of paper in his lap. Lord Smythwaite quickly read the wrinkled document.

“I seems like Lord Alwaythe met his match,” he smiled. “He is of little use to us now.”

“That idiot is the one who caused the disaster!” Queen Denize shouted. “You also know it! Why do you insist on replacing Ser Thoragild, if not for simple hatred?”

Lord Smythwaite eyed her with barely concealed anger. “The Lords of the realm have lost all faith in him and more than half want to recall their knights and men-at-arms to protect their own estates and provinces. The only thing that would avert such a calamitous move is a new commander. I do have the best interest of the kingdom at heart - your Majesty.”

“Lord Alwaythe has officially declared his bastard son as his heir,” the Queen shook her head. “He lost three sons during the battle but surely he isn’t foolish enough to do such a thing. It’s entirely unheard of.”

‘It’s my understanding that the bastard son, David I believe he is named, is the best of them all,” Lord Smythwaite grinned. “He may prove more valuable and tactile to us than his fool of a father.”

“Surely Lord Alwaythe has other plans in mind. He may have lost his legal sons, but I doubt the man has lost his mind. The fool also has a very dangerous necromancer in his employ,” the Queen returned.

Lord Smythwaite held up another thin parchment and smiled. “Not any more. We now have a very dangerous necromancer working for us.”



The army watched as a gilded carriage made its way through the massive camp escorted by a full squadron of cavalry. The carriage was pulled by six beautiful black stallions, each one worth a small fortune and equipped as if on city parade. The commander of the escort called them to a halt and asked directions to the command post of Ser Thoragild. He then gave the order to continue.

“Another royal bastard comes to bask in our glory,” one of the men-at-arms quipped, spitting on the ground as they passed.

“He wants his share of the prize,” another agreed.

They were camped on the long ridgeline overlooking the City of Alation which was under siege by Angalund forces. They had just arrived that afternoon after a rough two day march. No deployments, other than security postings, had been made because the commanders were studying the situation. A large Angalund Army had just reinforced the besiegers, filling the opposing bank with thousands of soldiers and another strong contingent of knights.

Sean watched as the unusual carriage pulled to a springy stop in front of the large command tent, which had once belonged to Lord Alwaythe, but now was being used as headquarters for the growing command and staff. One of the coachmen climbed down and opened the carriage door and extended a set of small stairs to the ground.

A man of around thirty years stepped from the carriage and scrutinized Sean critically. He was wearing a gilded breastplate covering a white tunic bordered with a purple stripe that reached down to several inches above his knees. A footman walked behind him carrying a beautiful crested helmet inlayed with gold and jewels, obviously not a battle helmet. Despite the chill, the man wore sandals laced up to the top of his naked calf.

The security guards posted at the great tent stepped aside and let the regally dressed man enter. Sean followed closely behind, curious as to why such a dandy was attending their war council. As they entered, Ser Thoragild and his major commanders, along with Lord Haupt and King Lacouture, were standing near a large charcoal drawn map hanging on one side of the tent. They halted their conversation and turned as the man slowly approached them.

Ser Thoragaild bowed. “Welcome Your Imperial Highness,” he stated, turning to the remainder of the commanders. “For those who have not had the official pleasure, Sers, I would like to present, Emperor Marcus Crassus Licinius of Lugdunum.”

One of those Tyberian bastards, Sean thought. The Khelti had been robbed of payment several times after serving as archers for the Tyberians. His father, Alasdar MacAngis, flatly refused to do business with them anymore.

“Thank you Sers,” Licinius replied. “I see I arrived just in time to join the planning phase of the next campaign.”



Ser Thoragild looked at him questioningly. “You are genuinely welcome, Your Grace. I have not been officially advised that Lugdunum had joined our forces as allies, but, with the messenger service as poor as it has been of late, I am not surprised.”



“We have joined in your campaign against Angalund,” Licinius raised his left eyebrow. “Consequently, due to my status and experience, I have also been placed in command of the allied forces.”



Ser Thoragild and the other commanders glanced back and forth. “We have no knowledge of your appointment, Your Grace,” King Lacouture stated, since he was the highest representative present.



“I dare say that it would be a surprise if you did have knowledge of the change,” Licinius smiled. “The appointment was made a few hours ago and a message arrived at my temporary base shortly thereafter.” He presented the message to King Lacouture for his perusal.



“King Lacouture handed the message to Ser Thoragild who passed it on to the other commanders. “The appointment appears to be genuine, Your Grace,” he replied. “However, Lugdunum is a good ten days travel from here, you must have been quite certain of the appointment otherwise you would not have made such an arduous journey.”



“The only question of any importance is, do you accept my commission or not?” Licinius did not smile this time. “If you question its authenticity, I strongly suggest you contact your superiors immediately.”



The bastard is in bed with Queen Denize and the other snakes of Camalund, Sean thought. I’ll bet Smythwaite and Alwaythe are also behind it. He glanced around the large tent until he spotted David who had a perplexed look on his face.

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The Lone Traveler - Part Nineteen  (13+) A young girl undertakes a fantastic and perilous journey in a Medieval like world. #2070174 by Oldwarrior