Hero of the Western Shores, page 1
Copyright 2023 Cal Clement
All Rights Reserved
The characters and events portrayed within are fictitious.
Any similarities to real persons, alive or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced or stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without express written permission of the author.
ISBN-978-1-7376655-5-7
Cover Artist: Juan Padron
Printed in the United States of America
This book is dedicated to my sons. Tracer, Hunter and Cooper.
Don’t fear what lurks within the shadows, go forth and slay your dragons.
Hero of the Western Shores
CHAPTER ONE
The training yard
The clatter of swords colliding echoed off stone walls surrounding Valriden’s training yard. A cool bright morning had given way, and the sun grew hotter as it peeked its face over the wall’s battlements. Sir Kellor faced his third opponent of the day with a blunted training sword in hand. Beneath layers of quilted doublet and boiled leather, he could feel the perspiration gathering around his neck and running down his chest and back. He was weary after being tested by two opponents before this match, but he refused to show any sign of weakness. Sir Tangen had been dispatched easily enough. He had clashed with him first and though the knight was younger than he by nearly four years, Sir Kellor managed to outmaneuver him and score a series of hits against his arms and torso that left the knight barely able to lift his training sword. Sir Legan had been next and a more challenging match for Sir Kellor. When the two knights first began their clash, Sir Kellor found that his attacks were consistently blocked or parried by his opponent. Sir Legan was a fine swordsman and had been in the service of King Tarren’s court for years before Sir Kellor had been raised to knighthood. After a series of long clashes back-and-forth, Sir Legan began to tire and Sir Kellor was able to slip in a few blows against the older knight’s chest and shoulder, causing him to yield. Now he faced Sir Grinden.
Raised to knighthood at the same time as Sir Kellor, the two knights were near enough in age and size as to not give one advantage over the other. But while Sir Grinden was trained in a castle by a lord’s master at arms, Sir Kellor was raised as a squire and trained by the legendary Sir Alishane. The two men had become fast friends during their service to the king and near inseparable during their time spent in the neighboring kingdom of Ubecki, where a select handful of the great knights of Valentia must spend a year serving and studying in the court of the ancient seat of Elven power. But in the training yard, a knight has no friends.
Sir Kellor raised his sword and attacked with a series of slashing blows that drove Sir Grinden back on his heels. The knight’s sword rang and clattered with each clash while Sir Grinden kept his arms tight and managed to parry away Sir Kellor’s attacks. The defending knight managed a well-timed counter and Sir Kellor was barely able to block the wheeling attack before it landed against his side. For a long moment, the two swordsmen took stock of each other, circling while they caught their breath.
“Quit dancing around and hit the bastard!” a voice called from the edge of the training yard.
Sir Kellor knew better than to look for the source of the taunt, but Sir Grinden’s head turned just a fraction. Taking quick advantage, Sir Kellor raised his leg in a thrusting kick that landed on Sir Grinden’s chest, sending him stumbling back several paces. Sir Kellor pressed his advantage and raised his sword in an overhead arc that met Sir Grinden’s sword. Another attack found steel meeting steel while Sir Grinden regained his footing. Sir Kellor wheeled his sword around for a third slash but readjusted after a feigned overhead attack and doubled his handhold on the hilt of his sword for a high lunge. The point of his training sword stopped a finger width from Sir Grinden’s neck.
“Yield!” Sir Kellor demanded in a shout.
Sir Grinden rotated his sword point to the ground and held his offhand up. “I yield friend. Yet again.”
Sir Kellor smiled and lowered his blunted training blade. “You have bested me before, and you will again.”
“Not recently.” Sir Grinden replied while shaking his head, “Do you ever tire? Your last strike felt stronger than your first.”
Sir Kellor laughed and clapped a hand onto his friend’s shoulder. “Every man tires, my friend.”
The voice from the edge of the training yard sounded again. “Well? Do you plan to spend your afternoon grabbing at each other’s arses? Don’t tell me this is the famed training that occurs in King Tarren’s own yard!”
Sir Kellor searched for the source of the voice and found a tall, broad-shouldered man in a fine woolen doublet of deep green trimmed in red. Sir Kellor knew him to be Lord Edgar Fellsworth, a wealthy and reputed lord of the north country along Valentia’s border with Ubecki. Lord Fellsworth was a guest of the king and had come with a handful of his household knights to take part in the day’s training session before making an appearance in the king’s court. Sir Kellor had met Lord Fellsworth before, though the encounter was brief enough he could not claim to know the man, but his reputation preceded him. As had a messenger from the lord’s own court. He had come to the capitol to petition the king for relief from some grievance. Sir Kellor did not involve himself in such affairs. He only paid attention so much as that the arrival of a noble lord meant the addition of fresh swords to the training yard. Inevitably, a challenge would be issued.
“Lord Fellsworth, it is good of you to visit us in the king’s training yard.” Sir Kellor offered in greeting, “Will you be joining us? The morning is nearly spent, but there is still time before King Tarren holds court.”
Lord Fellsworth scoffed through a burly mustache and shook his head, “I am here to petition the king, not to train at arms. No, sir knight, I will not be joining you at training myself, but I have brought some of my household knights with me. They desire the opportunity to train amongst King Tarren’s famed Wardens. That is, if you will oblige.”
Sir Kellor let the point of his training sword rest in the dirt between his feet. He bowed his head slightly as he spoke, “We welcome the challenge, my lord.”
“If the training I have seen is any tell, a challenge it will be for you. I didn’t know the standards of the king’s yard were so relaxed.” Lord Fellsworth sneered with a roll of his head, “Who will face the first challenger?”
Sir Kellor tensed his arms. They were fatigued from meeting three opponents back-to-back, but the lord’s haughty tone had lit a fire inside of him. He clenched his teeth but managed a smile against the insult. “I will, my lord. It would be an honor to hone my skills against your men’s swords.”
Lord Fellsworth smirked, “Indeed.” He looked over his shoulder and nodded to one of his men. “Sir Aiden, show the king’s men how we train.”
Sir Aiden stepped forward and bowed his head slightly. “Yes, my lord.” He was a full head taller than Sir Kellor but slender in build. He wore a quilted doublet of colors matching his lord’s over boiled leather. The tall knight regarded Sir Kellor with a nod and selected one of the blunted training blades from a wooden rack near the edge of the training grounds.
“Humph, we shall see, we shall see indeed.” Lord Fellsworth remarked as Sir Aiden wielded a training blade and made his way toward the center of the yard.
A crowd gathered. King Tarren’s Wardens, the knights of the court and men at arms, all began to clear a swath of room for the two challengers to face one another. The sun had risen further into the sky and began to beat down on the yard, baking the dirt and straw scattered at the feet of the two knights as they began to circle one another.
“Get on with it!” Lord Fellsworth shouted after the knights had completed one circuit around the clearing.
Sir Aiden led with a vicious overhand attack after the prodding by his lord. The attack was fast, but Sir Kellor managed to parry it away and sidestepped to land a counterattack on the knight’s forearms, causing him to release his grip on the blunted training weapon. Sir Kellor immediately followed by driving one knee into Sir Aiden’s hip and bringing his training sword up against the disarmed knight’s throat.
“Yield.” Sir Kellor demanded through clenched teeth.
Sir Aiden raised his hands with a grimace of pain plaguing his face. “I yield, I yield!”
Shouts of approval rose from the crowd. Sir Kellor pulled his training blade away from Sir Aiden’s throat. He gave the defeated knight a nod and a smile, “Well fought Sir Aiden, but be more wary to over-commit yourself so quickly. Especially when you have not adequately sized up your opponent.”
Sir Aiden tipped his brow. “Thank you.” He retrieved his training blade from the ground and began to carry it toward the wooden rack at the edge of the yard.
Sir Kellor faced Lord Fellsworth and spread his arms wide. He gave his training sword a quick twirl, letting the sunlight catch the broad side of the blade. “Do you have another challenger, my lord? Or have I satisfied your concerns about our training habits?”
Lord Fellsworth’s face flushed a shade of deep red. He looked around to his entourage of knights and men at arms for a moment. Sir Kellor relaxed his arms and let the point of his training sword rest in the dirt beneath his feet. There were some tense words exchanged that he could not hear. Finally, Lord Fellsworth turned back to face Sir Kellor. “Perhaps you will find Sir Maglin to be more of a challenge.”
Sir Kellor nodded. “Perhaps.” He lifted his sword point from the dirt and held it at the ready as Sir Maglin crossed the yard and retrieved a training sword from the rack.
Sir Maglin did not make the same mistake as Sir Aiden. He cautiously sidestepped in a circle, keeping a ready stance as he faced Sir Kellor with his sword pointed forward. Sir Kellor examined his opponent. His shoulder remained square to Sir Kellor, whether he was mid stride, or his feet were both on the ground. He held his training sword high, with one hand butted up against the hilt of the blade. There it was. Sir Kellor had found the weakness he would exploit.
With a quick step forward, Sir Kellor feigned a lunge attack. Sir Maglin took the bait and raised his own sword to block the strike only to find that Sir Kellor had redirected his attack and was now arcing his weapon around in a side swing. Sir Maglin angled his blade to recover from the ploy and steel met steel with a piercing loud clang. As soon as the blades connected, Sir Kellor drove his sword downward into the hilt of his opponent’s. The blunted weapon wrenched free of Sir Maglin’s hands and toppled to the ground. Sir Kellor advanced hard, not allowing his opponent time to react to what had occurred. With one hand, he seized his opponent’s doublet while with the other he drove the blunt edge of his training blade next to the disarmed knight’s neck.
“Yield.” Sir Kellor said in a low tone.
Sir Maglin’s eyes were wide. A mixture of shame and fear spread across his face. “I yield, sir.”
The quick defeat ushered another round of cheers from the crowd. Sir Kellor lowered his sword and let his opponent retreat to the other side of the training yard, where Lord Fellsworth waited with a scowl on his face.
“You fight well, sir.” Lord Fellsworth offered with a furrowed brow. “What is your name?”
Sir Kellor assumed the same stance he held before facing Sir Maglin with his feet spread evenly beneath him and his sword resting point down on the ground while his folded hands rested on the pommel. “I am Sir Kellor, my lord. A knight of the king’s own Wardens and sworn shield of Prince Thalen.”
The scowling lord folded his arms across his chest. “Have you a family name?”
Sir Kellor shook his head. “I was an orphan before being raised to a squire. I have no family name, my lord.”
Lord Fellsworth let a grin creep across his mouth. “How does an orphan boy make his way to such a prestigious place in the court of the king?”
The training yard had fallen silent. All the cheers and chattering died away. Every eye rested on Sir Kellor and Lord Fellsworth.
“Sir Alishane took me as his squire after I tended his horse while working as a stable boy.”
Lord Fellsworth raised his brow and widened his eyes. “Now there is a name I am familiar with. Sir Alishane. A true swordsman. I watched him in a tourney right here in the capitol. He won the joust and the melee if memory serves me correctly. Only man I ever saw who refused to fight with a shield. He used two swords instead, even if his opponent carried a shield or an ax.” Lord Fellsworth ran his thumb and forefinger over his thick mustache. “I would say, that explains your skill with a blade. Well done, Sir Kellor, well done indeed. What has become of your former master? Is he about?”
Sir Kellor held his lips close together. He drew a slow, deliberate breath in through his nose and narrowed his eyes. He regarded the question with suspicion. Sir Alishane’s departure from Valentia was well known throughout the realm. “Sir Alishane has been released from service to the king. I know not where he is, only that he has taken a vow to serve the common people of Ubecki.”
Lord Fellsworth exchanged a look of amusement with the knights at his side. He seemed barely able to contain a smile as he replied, “You mean, the king dismissed him, and he fled the realm in disgrace?”
Sir Kellor’s squint narrowed further. He could feel anger rising in his chest as the lord’s words met his ears. He drew another breath, slow and deliberate. The knights and men at arms beside Lord Fellsworth exchanged jests, nodding and smirking amongst themselves. Sir Kellor slowly closed his hands around the pommel of the training sword they rested on as he replied, “I said what I meant. Sir Alishane asked for King Tarren’s blessing to be released from his service after the battle of the Antlered Forest. King Tarren granted him his request. He sold his armor and rode north to serve the common people of Ubecki. His honor is above reproach.”
“It sounds like he lost his mettle in the forest. Pity. Some knights are a glory to behold at tourney but have no stomach for battle.” Lord Fellsworth scowled and shook his head.
Sir Kellor weighed the lord’s words carefully as the chatter among his entourage continued. He decided to offer the lord a chance to retract his insult. “Lord Fellsworth. I must have heard you incorrectly. Surely, you did not mean to insult the man who raised me from a stable boy into knighthood.”
Lord Fellsworth’s entourage fell silent. He gave a dismissive shrug and replied, “Is it not the truth? Your hero knight got a taste of battle and fled. I would have had him hanged just for asking, were I in King Tarren’s place.”
Sir Kellor dipped his head and focused his eyes to where his hands rested on the pommel of his sword. He knew that once he crossed the line he was about to cross, there would be no going back. He would either emerge victorious, or shame himself forever. “Will you defend your insults with your blade? Or is it you who is the true coward?” His voice rang loud and clear through the yard so that all who were in attendance could hear.
Lord Fellsworth let his hands fall to rest on the pommel of his sword. His face reddened and his jaw seemed to clench as Sir Kellor’s challenge resonated through the training yard. The lord kept his stare locked onto Sir Kellor as he commanded his knights, “Sir Aiden, Sir Maglin, silence him. Both of you.”
Sir Kellor remained still at the threat, raising his voice in reply, “You mistake me, my lord. I have already defeated your household knights. It is you who must defend your words.”
Lord Fellsworth turned to his entourage and yelled, “Silence him! Now!” He grabbed the doublets of two more of his men and ushered them forward, “You two, go with them!”
The rasp of swords unsheathing broke through the quiet of the training yard. Sir Kellor raised his head and found that four of Lord Fellsworth’s men were approaching. They did not waste time retrieving training weapons but drew their combat arms. Sir Kellor looked to his brother Wardens and found several of them beginning to approach. With a raised hand, he halted their progress. “Sir Grinden, my sword.”
Sir Grinden reached for Sir Kellor’s sword, which was hanging on a wooden rack on the stone wall near the entrance to the Warden’s garrison tower. He withdrew the blade and hurried it to Sir Kellor’s side.
“You have my sword, if you wish it, brother.” Sir Grinden offered in a hushed voice.
Sir Kellor shook his head, keeping his eyes locked on the four men approaching him from across the training yard. “I do not.” He took up his sword with one hand while wielding the training blade he had used all morning in the other. “See to it the others do not interfere.”
Sir Grinden retreated to the surrounding crowd as Lord Fellsworth’s men closed on Sir Kellor and encircled him. A hush fell over the training yard as the armed men faced each other. Sir Kellor raised both of his blades and looked at each of his challengers in turn. He raised his voice so that all in attendance could hear, “The challenge I offered was not for you. You may lay down your arms and leave with your honor intact.”
“Silence him!” Lord Fellsworth screamed from the edge of the training grounds.
CHAPTER TWO
Blood in the Yard
Sir Kellor stood firm as he was slowly encircled by four attackers. In his right hand, he gripped the same edged sword he would carry into battle while in his left he held the blunted training blade he had used all morning. The attackers maintained their distance while Sir Kellor shifted his gaze from one to another. They were all hesitating to engage. He could see it in their eyes. Even though they had him outnumbered and surrounded, none wanted to make the first move. The crowd of men that had gathered in the castle’s yard for their morning ritual of training at arms had all stopped. Knights and squires, men at arms and young boys in training, all focused their attention onto Sir Kellor. A distant clang of a blacksmith’s hammer rang through the late morning.
