Grim Tidings

Grim Tidings                      - a more recent work





‘Alec! Alec!’

‘Wha…?’ he started blearily, sitting up in bed.

‘There’s an urgent message that needs taking! Get up!’

Fully awake now, Alec dressed and ran out of the barracks into the frosty night, where a horse was being held in the courtyard. A dark figure thrust light armour and a sword at him and Alec quickly donned it and belted on the sword. He leapt up onto the restless horse and waited silently for his task.

Very soon there was a low groan and the heavy oak doors into the castle swung open, illuminating the courtyard with the flickering of torches. The king himself swept down the stairs and straight up to Alec, thrusting a role of parchment at him. ‘You’re the very best. This is very important!’ he hissed. ‘There will be people… they’ll try to stop you. But your message must get through! Do not let anyone but my brother read this message. Destroy it first!’

‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ he replied softly. ‘I will protect it with my life.’

‘It’s important, understand? My… my son is dead.  The Prince!’

Alec’s eyes widened in the darkness, his whole body going cold. It could lead to a civil war right through Anavia if this information got into the wrong hands. ‘I understand, Your Majesty.’

‘Now go!’

The gates were pushed open and Alec urged his horse into a gallop and out into the narrow streets of the city. When he reached the outer walls the gate was already open, and he passed through with only the clatter of his horse's hooves in the empty streets announcing his passage.



He had slowed his horse to a trot, and steam rose from its heaving flanks in the cold air. The horizon was beginning to lighten and Alec guessed he was about a third of the way to Duke Erane’s stronghold. The Prince had been very ill for many moons now, though his death would still shock the population. Duke Erane, King Lortnen’s only brother, was now Heir. It would take little to throw the Kingdom into civil war.

But Alec wasn’t thinking about this. His hand rested on his sword hilt, and his eyes darted left and right, inspecting every shadow, every shimmer of moonlight. What the king had hinted at, was of the fact people would already know about the Prince’s demise - there were spies everywhere. People - high up people - would try to stop him from informing the Duke of his new title. A discreet assassination here and there would be all it would take for any one of the other nobility to have the throne within their grasp.

Sensing his horse was rested enough, Alec pushed it back into a gallop, flying over the rough country road.



They came out of nowhere, leaping out onto the road all around him from every direction. Sneers marked their faces, vicious swords and battleaxes  were held out, ready for battle. Alec’s horse reared in panic, eyes rolling, but Alec himself characteristically stayed very calm, drawing his sword in the weak half light of dawn, and checking  to make sure his message was tucked safely away.

Nothing was on his side. Alec was severely outnumbered, around ten to one, and even his horse couldn’t even up that gap. So without waiting for them to make the first move, Alec pushed his horse forward and coldly rode the first one down, wheeling and charging the next. Bringing his sword down to meet his opponent’s axe and swinging it in a tight arc, his sword bit deep into the man's side, and he fell to the ground.

Alec’s heart was pounding, sweat already beading on his forehead. But still he was cold, calculating. This was why he was the best.

Another man leapt forward and Alec nudged his horse to meet him. He neatly parried the blow and swung around to his shoulder, but his sword met the other. Another man came up on the other side, smiling wickedly, and Alec elbowed him, breaking his nose. The man fell back, temporarily stunned, and the messenger ran the first one through. As the one with the broken nose returned to the attack, Alec hooked his blade in the other’s hilt and sent it flying into a bush, then coolly decapitating him.

But there were still six others, determined to get the gold offered for this man's head - and more importantly, his message. A man ran towards him, yelling bravely. Alec sat atop his quivering horse and watched him come. As he raised his sword high to swing, Alec’s blade caught him under the arm, and he collapsed to the gravel. Still another took his place, but Alec knew, something wasn’t quite right…

He couldn’t think about it now, and instead exchanged a flurry of blows with his current opponent. As he shoved the body off his blade, Alec felt his horse's weight shift and spun in his saddle, just in time to catch the axe aimed for his head, swung by a man sitting behind him!

Alec, for the first time surprised, pushed him off and rode over him. The last man turned and ran out over the field, crying for mercy. Alec had a mission, and besides which, he didn’t like to kill, so he didn’t pursue the last man, instead turning his horse and galloping further down the road. There was only another three leagues, and then he and his exhausted horse could rest.



There! Down in that valley was Duke Erane’s stronghold. Alec’s very bones were aching with the strain of his endless pace, and the previous battle. Blood stained his clothes and his horse, but very little of it was his.

Raising his ‘urgent message’ flag as he galloped towards the walls, he could see the gates beginning to open. Without acknowledging the guards, Alec leaned closer to his horses neck and galloped through the streets, his and his mount's breath coming raggedly.

Duke Erane and a small contingent of soldiers were waiting in the courtyard when Alec arrived. He leaped off the horse, stumbling slightly in his exhaustion, and stood to attention in front of the Duke. Handing him the message, he panted softly, ‘Read it in private, Sir.’

The Duke snapped his fingers and barked, ‘Get the man some food, drink and rest!’

Alec, though he was exhausted and sore, was satisfied he had fulfilled his duty.