Man of The Sword
“When a man of means speaks, you listen. When a man of the sword speaks, you obey.”
Moments after the opening scene in Book 1, Not Too Far From Home, King Ulius, Princes Miika and Udonis, as well as their men, return to Theton.
Miika stood stiff with shame as the King reached for his saddle and swung himself back atop his warhorse. His father’s sword hung free in his off hand until his squire, Broderick Carle, came eagerly to fetch it. It glistened in the young man’s hands as he wiped the blood from it.
“Come.” King Ulius said sharply as he rode past both his sons.
Udonis urged his horse forward and spoke up before his older brother could shake himself from his state of humiliation. “As you will it, Father.”
They’d ridden all this way for one reason. Quarter any that surrender. Kill all who resist.
During the fight Miika froze, as he had dozens of times before. Only this time, his father had been here to see it, and Miika had watched the embarrassment on the King’s face turn to anger.
The late morning mist grew thin as they approached the isolated, wooded town once again. People had begun sharing their versions of this latest ordeal as they put their homes back in order. They crowded their doorways and gave nods of thanks to The King and his retinue as they returned. The smell of fresh bread and recently spun-up dirt almost filled the center of the small town with a sense of normalcy.
News of raiding parties had reached the Capitol more frequently as of late, but this seemed different. More than just aimless vagabonds. These men acted with clear purpose. As though they were being driven towards something, or someone.
And they targeted Theton, of all places.
Miika continued to wonder aloud as he rode with Udonis a horse-length behind the King. “Was it father? How were they to know he’d arrive?”
His questions hung in the crisp morning air before Udonis quipped, “You know the rest of us aren’t privy to what goes on inside that head of yours, don’t you?”
“How’d they know we’d ride? Or that anyone would for that matter?” Miika ignored his brother’s wit - he still had to choke down the shame in his throat either way.
“You keep that up, some’ll start thinking you're mad.” Udonis said.
Miika kept his next thought to himself. Not here. Not now.
Ulius stopped his horse in order to let his boys catch up. He kept his eyes ahead of him and said nothing. His stillness worried Miika. He’d campaigned with his father before, though he’d never truly seen war. That skirmish between Giotian and Imperial forces who were posing as envoys must’ve been close to what war felt like. But that and an encounter with an overzealous sect of the Children of Divinity that’d turned violent in Annsbury were the closest he’d ever been to actual battle.
Udonis filled the silence with a question. “Father, are these men to be detained?”
Miika knew his younger brother’s enthusiasm had to be a means of covering up his fear. His brother was too young and too stupid not to be scared. Wasn’t he?
Miika surely was. Aside from the primal fear of losing his life, there was also a more intimate kind of terror. The kind that only a son who constantly disappointed his father can know.
Unmoved, Ulius replied, “Why do you ask?”
“They refused to fight or flee, threw down their arms, and now look at them. Like hogs ready for the slaughter,” Udonis said.
Ulius looked thoughtful. “Just because a man is bound doesn’t mean he’s surrendered.”
Sir Garrick had all the outsiders who’d remained lined up in front of the well at the town’s center. With each man on their knees one could be forgiven for thinking them beggars. Once close enough it’d be impossible to miss their hands and feet bound behind them.
“We’ve checked and checked again. This is all of ‘em,” Sir Garrick said as King Ulius dismounted and signaled for his son’s to do the same.
King Ulius paced slowly down the line of captives, hands and face spotted with the blood of their companions. His armor shone bright, and reminded the ragged men who held power in this moment. Title aside, Ulius Kazar moved with authority.
When he spoke, he addressed Sir Garrick. But his eyes were fixed on the men in the dirt beneath him. “We rode down the three that fled. Fools.”
Sir Garrick kept quiet as he stood and watched. He knew just what the King was up to, as did the rest of his men. Many of them, and all of his nine Bondsmen, had served with Commander Ulius before his ascension atop the Ennead. Though, none were as close to the King as Garrick had been.
Behind Ulius and Garrick, Miika and Udonis stood just before their mounts. They too had seen this from Ulius, though not just in his capacity as King. Ulius was as stern a father as he was a monarch. Too much leniency was as harmful to one’s parenting ability as it was to their leadership. Both brothers knew their father was looking for the one who would break first.
As King Ulius neared the end of the line one man glanced upward, quickly and clumsily, when he’d thought the King had lost sight of him. He hadn’t.
Ulius stopped mid-step, hands clasped behind his back, and spun immediately to tower over the man.
“Who sent you?” His voice left no room for silence.
“I… I… I can’t say. They’ll-” the man started.
“They won’t have the chance if you do not answer me.” The man bristled at the change in the King’s tone. “Speak the truth. I will not ask again... Who sent you?”
“Sir, please. I- -” The man’s voice trembled before once again being completely enveloped by the King’s.
“Broderick!” Ulius boomed.
Miika could hear the footsteps of the King’s squire behind him. As he turned, Broderick shuffled by, the King’s freshly cleaned blade in hand, and he gave the two a nod. He was of a similar age to the King’s sons; in another life the three may’ve been friends.
“I’m here. And your blade is ready… Sir.” The squire said as he extended both arms to hand the King his sword.
It was a hand and a half sword, a perfect fit for a man of Ulius’ size. He’d carried it for decades now. Far too many had fallen to Ulius and his blade to count. The King took his sword in his right hand and turned it back and forth, inspecting it. Possibly relishing the moment to come.
Miika knew how much his father hated a liar.
“I know who sent you.” Ulius hadn’t stopped turning his blade. It gleamed and glinted in the sun with each and every shift.
“You serve a man of means. I understand and can respect your loyalty, as do your brothers in arms. I’m certain of it.”
“Not all men come to power because of proximity to wealth. Some of us are men of the sword.” The King abruptly stopped turning his blade and let it drop to his side.
Ulius made eye contact with the wretch he’d been looming over. Taunting. The man was on the verge of tears, his eyes welling up like cups too full. Ulius held his gaze for what felt like eternity. Then he spoke.
“When a man of means speaks, you listen. When a man of the sword speaks, you obey.”
Ulius lifted his sword high and dropped it on the crown of the unfortunate’s head. The sound was enough to turn everyone’s stomach. The man’s body jolted. His voice, nothing but garbled groans, undulated as he tried to plead. His body wriggled as he began to choke on his own blood.
The King stood there, silently, and watched him die. No one moved.
When the body went limp, Ulius yanked his blade free and watched the corpse collapse with a wet thud.
Miika looked on as the King turned and addressed Sir Garrick directly.
“Have Captain LaBeouf escort these prisoners back to Lismark and Captain Ryckter. He’s to do with them as he pleases.”
Miika made uneasy eye contact with his father when he turned to face them. The King paused to be sure Garrick understood the gravity of his next statement. “Find the stragglers. We can’t afford to be taken unaware.”
“Understood,” Sir Garrick said.
Miika broke first. His eyes darted away from the King and toward the men behind him - and the corpse, still lying on where it’d fallen with its head cleaved in two. Then back again to his father, who’d apparently never stopped looking at him. Or through him.
Udonis shifted uneasily in his saddle, stirring as if he wanted to interject. Instead he coughed. Then steadied his horse beneath him.
The King’s oldest son turned sharply and began to walk away. Head down, one hand cupped above his eyes as though he was trying to block the light of the sun.
In earnest, he’d been trying to hide his tears.
“When a man of means speaks, you listen. When a man of the sword speaks, you obey.”
That's one of a quote! Definitely keeping that one in my pocket!
I think this short story added well on how the two brothers are facing the situation, as well as Ulius's character with the last scene.
These scenes where you have the character showing and/or hinting how he deals with these kind of situation, and even more when they show you that they shouldn't be messed with in a bad-ass way... I live for that!
I do feel for Miika, and am glad to see how different people respond to violent situation, killing, and similar. I see often in fantasy how killing and violence doesn't seem a big deal, and the character goes through it like cutting a piece of paper, but Miika- to me - does give a more human perspective as I believe many of us would be horrified by these actions, and probably would try to avoid doing such.
In brief, I think that, even though it didn't made it into the issue, that short story give a deeper character development to these three.
Excited for more of these!
Brutal ... you are most capable of writing prose without the need for comic frames. Awesome.