Iron and Shadow, page 51
part #3 of The Iron Kingdom Series
From the outset, it was clear that General Lokkmar had a much greater following. His family was large and his allies and friends many. The gates were roughly east and west, and the general prepared himself near the eastern gate. As the challenged, Lokkmar had made many of the choices in the duel and choosing the east gate was a part of his due. The general had proclaimed that the east gate symbolized the sun rising on him and his house and many agreed with that. This left lord Garyth with the west gate and many wondered if the sun was setting on the man that rumor now held might possibly be the bastard of the Iron King.
Lokkmar wore chainmail, greaves and gauntlets and a helm emblazoned with the crest of his family, a hawk in flight. His shield and the tabard over his mail bore his family sigil, the hawk in flight over field of quartered red and white, the colors of his ancient clan. The general wore a longsword and dagger on his belt and held a spear in his hand. Lokkmar was the very picture of a modern warrior of the Iron Kingdom, his bearing and manner proud, his arms and armor a blend of hundreds of years of martial tradition and modern black-smith techniques. His muscled frame was lean and powerful, and he stood tall and resolute, as if carved from ice. The general’s face was aquiline and noble, his sharp nose and deep-set gray eyes giving him the look of a bird of prey strongly reminiscent of his family’s coat-of-arms. As the general’s squire saw to the final straps and buckles of his armor, the general removed his helm and held it high to the cheers of those around him. Then, as the squire stepped back, he tucked the helm under one arm and walked to the entrance of the square.
Across the square, Garyth was also finishing his preparations. The lord’s armor was similar to that of the general, though plainer in ornamentation. His mail, greaves and gauntlets bore no etching or embellishments, and his open-faced helm was one that any infantryman might have worn. Garyth’s shield was painted a plain, utilitarian gray, as he had no house colors to boast and upon that gray field was the visage of a snarling wolf, a device of his own choosing. He had a longsword and dagger on his belt and a bastard sword on his back, all of good kingdom steel, as per the restrictions of the duel. Tall and heavily muscled, the brawny lord wore no tabard over his mail. Compared to the somewhat ostentatious general, lord Garyth looked like a mercenary or common soldier. His bearded face was grim beneath his helm and he gave no salute nor attention to the gathered people. His eyes were fixed on the man at the opposite gate.
Those gathered on lord Garyth’s side were fewer in number, if not importance. The king’s household was gathered, of course, as the lord was a kinsman of theirs. There were a few officers who sided with the lord, though most were gathered on the side of the influential general. There were also the few allies and friends that Garyth had, namely the dwarf thane, the elven wizard and Captain Rothan, who was his second. Garyth’s wife was there as well, though not his son, for his parents hadn’t wanted him to be there.
Her face anxious, Elin watched her husband make his final preparations. She didn’t look around and had completely tuned out everything and everyone else. Her entire focus was on her husband and she fought back tears once more. She’d cried the night before and this morning and the last thing she wanted him to see was her crying before he went out into the square. As he turned toward her, she smiled at him, thinking back on their years together, and how she’d never loved another man. When he smiled back at her, her heart lurched as she thought she might never see that smile again. The tears began to flow as he walked toward her.
“Don’t be afraid.” Garyth said, the words sounding foolish in both their ears.
Glaring through her veil of tears, Elin snapped, “Don’t tell me how to feel!” Her actions were gentle, even though her words were sharp. Reaching up with one hand, she caressed the side of his face, staring at him as though she’d never see him again, which was entirely possible.
“I’m going to win, Elin.” He said calmly. And raised a gloved hand to touch her face. “Trust me.”
“And if you don’t?” She replied, hating to ask it, hating to doubt him. They’d argued over this duel for hours and hours. Her view of the foolishness and pride, his wounds and the repercussions of it all even if he did win. Elin knew that he wouldn’t be swayed at the last, but she couldn’t help herself.
Garyth’s smile was tender and full of understanding. “Rothan and Tavia will be with you, should I lose.” His eyes flickered over where the captain was standing by the elf. “He vowed to protect my family and his honor is without question. Tavia will stay with the man she loves, and you will be well provided for.”
Her eyes shiny with fear, Tavia’s voice was reproachful. “You said that you would win!” She breathed.
“And I mean to, Elin.” He replied, savoring her name as he drank in the sight of her beautiful face. “Whatever happens, trust Rothan and go to our house in the country.” He could see that she was going to protest to argue and there was no time for any of it. Leaning in, Garyth kissed his wife as passionately as the first time.
When he made to lean back, Elin held him close for a moment longer, whispering into his ear. “I will always love you.”
Garyth smiled again, that quick flash of a lopsided smile that he reserved for those he truly cared about. “And I will always love you, Elin.” Then, he gave her the impudent wink that never failed to make her heart skip a beat. “I’ll be right back.” Before he turned away, he laid a hand gently on her swelling belly and smiled. The warrior turned away before she could say anything more.
Watching the exchange, Tavia looked at Rothan. “She is heavy with child.”
“Yes.” He murmured, tightening the straps of his shield. “Garyth said that she’ll have the child any day.”
“You will keep your oath, if he falls.” The elf murmured. It was not a question.
Looking around at her, Rothan nodded. “Of course.” There was a quizzical sound in the timbre of his voice and his brows rose in question. “What else could I do?”
“Should he die today, you could well spend the rest of your life protecting his family.” Her inscrutable, elven eyes never wavered.
“Yes.” Rothan said flatly. “I will do what I have sworn.” He then stepped close and took her hand. “I did not speak for you, Tavia. You aren’t bound to my oath.”
Her rueful laugh sounded like a wind chime. “You are a fool, captain.” She said and kissed him fiercely. His eyes widened, and it was clear he was thinking about the onlookers, but the sorceress did not care. Their kiss was long and deep and their embrace strong. When she stepped away, she pronounced simply, “I go where you go.”
Alanna smiled as she saw the flustered captain fumble to reply. She wasn’t near enough to eavesdrop but close enough to see his consternation. She was glad for the couple, even as she felt the depth of her worry for her brother. The princess was terrified that she would lose another person that she loved, just as she was fiercely proud of Garyth. She couldn’t agree with the duel, though she could logically see her brother’s reasons for it, Valun never being far from her thoughts. She stood near Naolin and Leith and the two sisters smiled when their brother walked toward them.
“It is good to see you, Naolin.” Garyth said warmly. They hadn’t had a chance to talk upon the elder princesses return.
Stepping forward to embrace him, Naolin whispered, “And you…brother.” Despite the hesitation, the two shared a smile.
When his sister stepped back, Garyth extended a hand to her husband. “Well met, Leith.” He said as the two men clasped forearms.
“Well met, lord Garyth.” Leith said formally, nodding. “Good luck to you.”
Murmuring his thanks, Garyth turned toward Alanna, who quickly stepped forward to hug him. “Be careful!” The young princess commanded, as though he were simply going for a walk.
“As you command, princess!” Garyth laughed drily.
She thumped him in the chest with her tiny fist. “You know what I mean!” Alanna said, laughing through her tears.
“I do.” The lord replied and stepped back. Glancing around, he saw Captain Bolaan was looking at them, or rather at his sister. “He’s a good man, Alanna.”
Seeing where his gaze went, the princess flatly refused to look in the captain’s direction. “Yes, he is.” She said, wiping her tears. “And a warrior.” There was complete conviction in her voice and Garyth understood how she felt. Alanna had explained that she couldn’t bear to see anyone else she loved, go off to war, and it was an argument, he’d known from the start he couldn’t win.
Instead of arguing, Garyth bowed to the princesses. “Be well, sisters.” He smiled at them both when he rose. “I love you both.”
They both replied that they loved him as well as he turned to go, and Naolin stepped close to her sister, taking her arm. “He is right about one thing, if nothing else.” She said, looking at the forlorn Captain Bolaan. “He is a fine man, sister.”
Still refusing to look toward the captain, Alanna’s firmly said. “We should keep our thoughts and prayers with our brother.” Inwardly, the princess questioned herself for the thousandth time. She held so much love for the young captain in her heart that it hurt. For all that, she simply couldn’t imagine losing him to war. Watching her brother walk away, the princess knew in her heart that her reservations were justified. She might never see Garyth alive again, and she knew that she could not bear such a parting from Bolaan.
Naolin looked from her sister to her husband, who was intently taking it all in. There was a look in his eyes that she’d learned meant he was cataloging everything mentally. “Leith?” The princess said, as she released her sister and stepped close to her husband.
“The wolf meets the hawk.” The bard murmured half to himself.
Naolin’s tone was severe. “Leith!” She hissed, her brow arching as he turned to look at her. “This isn’t some tale or song!”
“It will be, Naolin.” Leith replied in a low voice. “People will be talking about this day for years and years to come.”
The princess grew angry. “This isn’t some stranger, Leith!” There was fear in her tone as well as frustration. “This is my brother!”
The bard nodded absently. “I understand, my love.” He said, taking her hand. “I’m only saying that someone is going to write of this day.”
“Well, it isn’t going to be you, husband!” Naolin said flatly.
Seeing her dismay, Leith nodded his agreement. “Very well, Naolin.” He looked into her eyes. “I won’t write a single line of any of it.” There was wistfulness in his heart, however. The bard knew that history would remember this day, and it pained him to think his words wouldn’t be part of that record. Still, he knew that his wife was hurting and meant to keep his word to her.
Not far away, Captain Bolaan finally looked away from the princess Alanna. He’d hoped to catch her eye, but it was apparent that she was refusing to so much as glance at him. Bolaan sighed, thinking that he was truly a madman. He knew that he needed to give up this crazed dream of the princess, especially when she’d made her decision. He could understand why she felt the way she did and didn’t want to cause her pain. Still, he couldn’t help the way he felt about her. He thought inwardly that he would rather fight orcs that linger in Vakiun, feeling lovelorn and foolish.
Looking at the two men soon to face each other, Bolaan felt torn. He’d stood with lord Garyth out of loyalty to the king, more than anything else. He didn’t really know Garyth, although the man’s deeds were rapidly becoming legend. However, General Lokkmar was a man of honor and no few deeds of note himself. Captain Bolaan knew that he was standing where he was more for the slain General Fogrim, than for any other reason. Bolaan knew in his heart that if Fogrim was alive and here, he’d stand with Garyth, so that was where he chose to stand.
Thane Karrok stumped up to Garyth and saluted him. “Ye’ll do fine, lad.” The dwarf’s manner a blend of good humor and helpful advice. It was as if the Thane couldn’t help but imagine that his comrade could do anything but win this fight. “Remember, let him come to you!” The two clasped hands forearm to forearm in a warrior’s handshake.
“Thank you, mighty Thane!” Garyth replied with a grin.
“Keep your guard up and play up your injuries.” Karrok said, not done with advice. “Lokkmar didn’t receive and major wounds in the war, the bastard!” He shook his head. “Just let him come to you!” The dwarf’s expression was all but unreadable but, in truth, he was very concerned. He believed in Garyth’s abilities, but Lokkmar was said to be a deadly swordsman in his own right. More than those factors, however the dwarf worried that Garyth would let his emotions get the better of him and his desire for vengeance overwhelm his tactical sense. “Keep your guard up!”
“Fine advice!” Kollur said, walking up to the pair, his brother in tow. “You look well, but you’re still moving a bit stiff, kinsman!” The big man said cheerfully. “Don’t discard your shield too quickly. I know how much you love your hand and a half sword but there was this one time…”
Mercifully Belthe was there to staunch the flow of words from his brother. “Garyth knows how to fight, you may remember, brother.” He said drily and when the lord smiled his thanks, added, “Fortune smile on you, cousin.” Garyth shook hands with both men and with the dwarf again before continuing toward the west gate.
“Still walking a bit slow.” The big warrior noted.
Belthe sighed. “Shut up, Kollur.”
Aiden watched his brother and cousins talking but did not draw near. He knew that Garyth would not welcome his presence and would have had a hard time saying anything remotely sincere. The crown prince would rather had stood among the neutral parties that had gathered to the north and south of the square. He couldn’t bring himself to agree with this duel and worry for his brother warred with anger at their last encounter. Added to this was the knowledge of the potential for trouble that would occur from this duel and Aiden felt paralyzed.
Ingvar stood nearby, watching the whole thing with forced detachment. “The general seems confident.”
“Hoping he kills my kinsman, Captain?” The words escaped Aiden before he could capture them. Ingvar was loyal, but he’d made it clear that he’d love to take Garyth down a notch himself.
Shaking his head, the royal guardsman’s tone was firm. “Not at all, my prince.” His gaze was unwavering as he gazed upon the two combatants. “Both men are excellent warriors, tacticians and leaders and the loss of either will be a blow to the kingdom.”
Surprised, Aiden nodded. “I assumed after the other day…”
“Oh, I’d love nothing more than to humble lord Garyth and teach him humility, Prince Aiden.” Ingvar interjected. “I simply think that this duel to the death is a waste of talent that the kingdom can ill-afford.”
Aiden mumbled his agreement. He was so vehemently opposed to this whole thing that he’d refused to bring his wife and children to it. The prince didn’t care what anyone thought, he wasn’t about to subject them to witnessing this combat. He was torn, though as he watched his brother ready himself for battle. He knew that Garyth could well lose and he might never have the chance to speak to him again. However, so much had fallen out between them that he was paralyzed to do more than stand back and watch.
Trying to think of something else, Aiden’s mind went to the scandalous murder of Seneschal Barull. The seneschal’s body, along with that of a servant, had been discovered and, while the king had commanded that the culprit be found, so far, the investigators had turned up nothing. No one had seen or heard anything suspicious and it seemed like the killings had been perpetrated by a ghost.
The ghost in question was in attendance as well. No one could have known he was there but Savrun watched from amongst the crowd. He was there to make note of the important people of the realm, but also had a curious desire to see the men of the Iron Kingdom slay one another. He knew much more of lord Garyth than anyone there would ever have realized. The assassin knew a bit less of the general but enough to know his weaknesses and strengths. He hadn’t revealed himself to Haunild or any of the others of the Shadow Liberation, but kept himself aloof in the crowd, using his merchant’s guise to full effect. Standing near the south end of the square, amidst a knot of commoners, Savrun watched the two men clinically.
The assassin thought that the general looked healthier and noted how his every movement was one of precision. There was a warrior who would fight as precisely as he planned troop movements. Lokkmar would be a foe to capitalize on every weakness and present none to his enemies. Lord Garyth, on the other hand moved fluidly, despite his healing injuries. There was something in his stride, in his gestures and his gaze that spoke of a born killer. Savrun saw in Garyth something of himself and felt a familiar combative urge. As always, when the assassin, beheld someone that, like himself, seemed to be a warrior without peer, his instant instinct was to test himself against them. Like the mercenary, Iverech, the assassin was supremely confident that he would slay the other man, but he was curious what such a fight would be like.
Iverech stood near Haunild at the north end of the square. He had no idea that the peerless assassin had given him a thought, no matter how fleeting. However, just as Savrun had, the mercenary was silently measuring the two warriors who were readying themselves. Standing amid the people of the Iron Kingdom that weren’t committed to either side, Iverech’s thoughts were that this whole ordeal was representative of the current plight of the nation. The people were torn, divided and something had to change.
