“You cannot!” Mildburg objected at once, followed by others repeating her words, for example Heard and all his sons.
“Yea, think of the repercussions!” Bada’s mother added in a flurry of panic, fearful for her daughter, “What will they do to Bada or Elena/”
“Oui, and what they will surely do to you? You will not live to see the end of the day, as all know- you better than any other that ?thelwulf has no mercy or pity in his soul.” Roparzh agreed tartly, bewildered by the mere suggestion of his comrade in arms.
Any other man might have called for a horse, called for others to join him as was befitting his rank, however Gwilherm was no ordinary baron of Brittia. Risen high above all expectations placed upon him, by those nearest and dearest to him, and even by those who hardly knew him, he was a noble raised to be a harpist rather than a proper feudal-lord. This combined with the fact that how weary he was, still being half-asleep meant that he preferred to descend the hill with his own two feet.
This signalled to a great many the vast humility that lay within him, with some such as Roparzh cursing his decision, and others such as Bada admiring it. Gwilherm arrived before his good-brother who preferred to remain on his horse, as did Aymon, who watched the noble with a stern eye. As he had no great love for those who broke, their word or broke with kings being a great lover of laws and honour as he was. If the men were haughty in nature, Elena the Queen showed none of this darker emotion, preferring to gaze upon her long-lost brother with her heart in her very eyes.
A proud woman, one not otherwise prone to displays of needless emotions, she was however a sister who had lost all her kin to the might of Balthrorth, by the time she was but a decade old. Gwilherm having always been her favourite playmate as an infant and her confidante and closest friend in life, so that for this reason she was the first to descend from her horse irreverent of her own rank which had divided her from him, long before he had undertaken this quest.
“You live, O Gwilherm how I dreaded the worst and prayed to the golden goddess for this! You live little brother!” She cried as she openly wept, as he swept her into his muscled arms this being before she noticed that he wore the armour, of Morcar. A hauberk and greaves that she knew far too well, and that made her upon reclaiming her memory of her rank, made her stiffen and squawk, “And what is this you wear!?”
“It has been some time sister and I shall only say for now that I have not only reclaimed what was ours, but was given this as a gift… and possibly more!” He said with genuine feeling, as she pressed a warm hand to his bearded cheek and he her evidently unshaven one. “I have missed you also! O how I wished to return to court, if only to sing once more to you!”
“I would hear any new songs you have to sing, my precious baby brother!” She replied with very open warmth and tears once more in her eyes.
All might have ended well there, if it were not for her husband and King to clear his throat, with apparent anger and a flash of his terrible dark eyes. Eyes that might well have pierced the fabric and flesh of a lesser man’s soul to death. His eyes could well have been the mistletoe dart that delivered Baldr from the realm of the living to the dying lands of Nifleheimr. Such was the wintry-scorn in them that none might otherwise have blamed Gwilherm if he had wilted and shrunk back, for fear of the wroth contained therein.
That he did not do this was a credit to him as it was to his sister who did not falter either and met her husband’s anger with her own. He may well have been a man she had assented to tie her destiny to, may well have even loved above all other men, however the man ?thelwulf would turn her against, was her own flesh and blood. Such wroth had as yet never before been seen in all the land of Estria, not since the death of ?thelwulf’s grandfather ?eelric, when he freed the eastern lands, from the pall cast upon them by the Norse-invaders.
“Gwilherm, release my wife, the rightful heiress of Réalwaldr this instant, to answer for the grievous crimes you and your followers have committed against I, your liege-lord.” ?thelwulf hissed at him, with such hatred that Gwilherm wished to bolt then to return, to behind the walls as his friends had recommended that he do in place of stepping thither to confront the monarch of Brittia.
“I am the rightful heir of Réalwaldr and have done naught wrong against you… save took back what was mine.” Gwilherm protested sharply, as he disliked this particular turn of events a great deal and would have preferred it, had his good-brother shown himself to be a touch more reasonable.
“?thelwulf, my King, my brother has the better claim, what would you do? Strip him of all, so that he is little more than a pauper?” Elena demanded of her husband, exasperated and having had enough of his desire to strip her brother of all that he possessed.
“He agreed to submit these lands to me-”
“At sword-point,” Gwilherm corrected him impatiently.
“Do not interrupt me, Gwilherm!” ?thelwulf cut through in a silent voice that was every bit as full of wroth as a lion’s roar might well have been. “I am still your King, and have by right of marriage, the right to a dowry. Would you leave your sister and her children, with naught but what I have to offer?”
It was at this time that Gwilherm thought swiftly, as he stood next to his sister, studying not only ?thelwulf but also Aymon who shifted uncomfortably. An honourable man, one who never much appreciated theft or the breaking of any law, regardless of who committed the crime no matter if they were monarchs or not. All men knelt before the laws and gods in the eyes, of the prince of Neustria.
Therefore it was he that he appealed to, for the cousin of éluan was a man with incredible influence over the King. “Milord, I have come on foot as a humble peasant before you, have never denied that my sister was due a proper dowry and will grant you anything-”
“Then give me the lands of your ancestors.”
“This is why I will grant you half, of those lands if it means that you will leave me in peace,” Gwilherm pleaded aware that where he could do battle with Balthrorth, to do so with ?thelwulf was impossible. Not only because it meant warring with all the land of Brittia, it also meant slaying a man beloved by his kin and for this simple reason he could not fight him.
“It is not enough for a Queen.” ?thelwulf growled furiously, too greedy to give so much as a millimetre let alone leagues of land.
“?thelwulf!” Elena hissed with it now being her turn to grow angry. “I have no wish for a dowry, especially if it means depriving my brother of all!”
“Silence, Elena.” Her mate snapped in exasperation, this only made her narrow her eyes at him, with a glower that might well have melted the Glacial Sea.
It was at that moment that Gwilherm wished that Eahlstan had joined him, so as to propose some sort of compromise between the King and him. He was rapidly running out of solutions and ideas, to try to maintain his hold over his lands, especially with the steward ?lred seated on horseback some distance behind the two royals before him. The light of the two suns, had begun by this time to rise so that he could properly see some of the men, sworn to his sister’s husband.
An idea came to his spirit just as he recalled, the sort of compromises and brilliant solutions he oft proposed, with Gwilherm requesting of his King. “Which do you favour more? Which is more profitable to you brother, the land or the castle?”
“The land of course,” ?thelwulf replied at once, as though it were the most evident thing in the world, with his answer exactly what Gwilherm had expected and hoped for.
“Exactly, therefore I propose I give unto thee all of my lands, act as your steward whilst keeping the castle for myself.” He suggested eagerly, with sweat beading the back of his neck only for his sister to attempt to dissuade him from this bargain.
“Gwilherm you shan’t do this,” She attempted to say only to once again be interrupted, though this time he spake far more tenderly to her than her husband ever had.
“Sister, I would give up all that I could for you, giving up the very breath in my body for you just as our brother and father had. Therefore I offer up only that which, is unimportant to me if it means properly honouring you.” Gwilherm said with such gentleness that Orcus the lord of light might well have seemed a brute in comparison to the Brittian knight at that moment.
The wind poured through the lands of Estria both seen and unseen by those in the fields and on the vales and hills of the eastern-lands, coursing through the land as a wave might pass over the sand of a great beach. It was in this moment that Aymon intervened at last, “?thelwulf, for many a years you have sought to take what was your brother by law’s possessions and whilst the King ought to be capable of doing all that he wishes. There must also come a time, when he must bear it in his mind that all men in the realm, are subject to the law. For ‘tis the law that is true King in all lands! If even one man refuses to obey it the law and all its divine principles are lost.”
His words were hardly as wise as what he believed them to be, in the mind of Gwilherm who frowned in response to them, for the law was not divine or as the words of the gods to his mind. Only Elena appeared of the four present to be in full agreement, as she nodded her head with an expression of utter approval painted on her face, this she did to the distaste of her husband. “He is right,” She said adding hurriedly as an after-thought, “And what sort of man frauds another of his property after he has done him a service and rescued his kingdom from a monster?”
His teeth gritted together, ?thelwulf at last conceded defeat if only on the matter of what his men might otherwise think of him. Reminded suddenly that it was Gwilherm who had secured for him the lands of Estria, at the expense of Balthrorth the Crimson, ?thelwulf gave at last his assent for the younger man to take up once again his titles. This he did with the utmost reluctance, though the King descended from his horse, made his good-brother kneel and did the formal ceremony of homage and commendation wherein Gwilherm had to kneel place his hands together before him and bowed his head. So that ?thelwulf could clasp his own palms over those of his vassal, before he acknowledged him as ‘lord of Réalwaldr’, a sight that pleased Elena who for a number of years, had awaited such a day, with the sort of impatience one might expect from a mother rather than a sister.
Hers was the most loyal, the best of spirits and the most valiant sort of woman, the sort who could compromise all, could tolerate all and could love all, even her enemies were it to mean shielding her brother from harm, and ensuring he had the best life had to offer. She was for this reason as queenly in soul and heart, as any Queen has ever been. Not amongst the Elves to the distant east, past the lands of Beveriand, or in the lands of Korax to the south, Ifriquya even further to the south, or in Theodosionople or even Neustria, or in the ages of Roma, Doris or Zolus had there ever lived so queenly a woman as she.
*****
Lo! From the moment whence they set out through the lands of Estria, a great tumult of joy was whipped up throughout all the peoples there, to see their King newly returned. Many cheered all prayed and thanked the gods to have allowed them to see such a day. This they did, regardless of the many losses, the fallen husbands, fathers, wives, mothers, sisters, brothers, and children and other folk that all had lost in the many difficulties years of Balthrorth’s domination of their precious lands. All knew joy as they saw the bright sheen, the great reflection of the light of the twin suns’ that gleamed high from high in the heavens, almost as brightly as did the armour of the King’s men. Men who felt themselves to be all the happier, now that they had no great shame bearing down upon them, for not facing the dragon, many of them boasting of what they might have done had it been they who confronted the terrible drake. They were also filled with joy at the parting of terrible ?lred who was at last cast down, and whom they had all found overweening, pompous and prone to more whining than their stalwart Queen might have done, were she a lesser lady than what she was.
His departure from their company, involved neither tears nor sorrow, save for on his part as he screamed in a rage, turned upon the weary and highly antagonised Gwilherm with a finger that jabbed through the air as a blade might. “You shall rue this day, lord Gwilherm! Rue I say and this I swear to thee, I shall return and reclaim Réalwaldr no matter the King’s wishes!”
So saying, he galloped off to the north, with ?thelwulf hardly interested in the lesser man, though he would have done well to pay heed to his wife’s warning, “He shall indeed return, husband you ought to bolster the walls of Réalwaldr with many a troops.”
“I have already been made to give up the keep, must I now guard and pay for it, when it is your brother’s duty now?” He complained as petulant as one of his sons might have been, when they were but a mere five years of age. “I shall not hear of it! Gwilherm you are my escort, to Mt-Sorg and Aymon my chief-most knight and commander, therefore you both shall stay near, less you both wish to be perceived as traitors!”
Aymon bristled and said nothing. Gwilherm was no less angry than he, yet having had in his life-time far more practice at biting his tongue he found the taste of it a far more familiar one, than did the noble prince. With them came not only the great huscarls and conscripted men of the private estates of ?thelwulf, from Auldchester to Morwyn in the south-east, to Dalvon in the far south-west, to Hwicce in the midlands, Rheged and Bernicia in the north but Elena of Falsveal, Eahlstan and Roparzh and Mildburg.
Elena due in no small part to her dragon-greed which egged her to wish to lay claim, to the treasure beneath the great Mount of the drake. Eahlstan who could divine his spirit or wishes? Whereas Roparzh and Mildburg would not be separated now from Gwilherm and Elena respectively, most especially with the latter being half-mad.
Seeing the choice in bride on the part of her brother drew not a smile or a nod from his sister but rather a frown. She already took a great dislike to the lass, and took an even greater one when she saw the darkness that hung over her, this regardless of the excuses made for she. For though few knew it, Elena the Queen had long had her heart set upon a southern marriage for her brother, so as to bind him closer to her. Her dearest wish being, to keep him away from Estria and near to her at court, with the rule of Réalwaldr devolving unto distant stewards, for this reason the thought of a maid taking him back to Estria, away from her grieved her greatly.
She thus became as a woman who heads to her brother’s funeral, though she did not weep she was far too proud and dignified for such things. So that for this reason she bore the heiress of Morcar’s company poorly. Mildburg attempted initially to intervene as best she could, yet found the endeavour taxing, as she was later wont to complain; “Dragon-greed is a fine excuse for one, however I can think of no reason to excuse the Queen’s poor temper and hot words.”
This division amongst the women aggrieved Gwilherm most of all, with the only source of joy for the good-brother of the King being his reunion with Galen. The old knight who had long begrudged him all, had returned to court with the claim to hunt for Roparzh, and had been brought along on the expedition into Estria.
At the sight of him a great halt was called from muster to muster, with this being possible thanks to a single blow of Aymon’s mighty horn, which served to signal to one and all, from the highest of knights to the lowliest of servants to halt. Camp was to be made with those skilled in the art of cooking, to roast mutton brought with them, on the journey north of the Waldr-River, thereupon the reunion of Galen with his former companions the two reacted with great shock. Three sunsets and dawns having been seen in the distance, with the two suns rising in the east only to fall upon their blades in the distant west, wherefore the moon arose to blot out their radiance from the lands of the men of the Lordly-Isle.
“Ah how goodly it is to see you,” Roparzh said being the more excited of the two, to bear witness to Galen’s humiliation, “Where once milord Gwilherm might well have been named a coward, or myself for that matter! However cowardice departed the moment we returned, to slay the Wyrm whereupon we could find neither hide nor cloak of our most valiant of companions; the noble Galen?”
Galen for his part froze. The expression that decorated his wizened face was such that everyone around him could see the horror he felt. The men were arrayed in a series of fires, the camp formed a kind of circle with the lower ranking warriors on the outskirts, alongside the scouts and watches, nearer to the center lay the higher-ranking lords. Those such as the lord of Morwyn Sigehelm Steel-Helm, the lord of Hwalchia Parzival Strong-Mace, with many others over in Prince Aymon’s camp which lay near to the center. Queen Elena’s tent lay in the center, which she shared with the other great-ladies. ?thelwulf’s was nearer to that of his great-friend Parzival who being a man skilled in the roasting of meats favoured tending to one of the great fires that decorated the camp. Gwilherm and Roparzh slept out in the wild, amongst the other warriors.
“Where have you been valiant Galen? We worried day after day, for you and scoured all the lands of Estria, from dawn to dusk, from cape to cape and from vale to vale!” Gwilherm mocked also sipping from a drinking-horn that one generous soul had prepared for him, in honour of his great accomplishment. Since his surrender to them, ?thelwulf had come to consider him little more than a prisoner, and forbidden him access to Elena the heiress of Falsveal, though Mildburg oft transported news of her doings to him.
The men who had once mocked and sneered at the harpist as a coward, had come now to love and honour him, for he had spared them from a bloody battle near Réalwaldr, had surrendered to spare his people and had done battle with a great dragon. This they respected and honoured, and some even went so far as to apologise for the hot words once exchanged between them.
Pleased by this, though he missed dearly his lady, and cared not for the many complaints his sister made of her, Gwilherm accepted every apology and sang over and over again, the song he had rapidly composed of his battle. It was deliberately modest, and sang more of the heroism of Roparzh, of Remus (who traveled with him, for they could not be parted) and of Eahlstan and the ladies of course. Most of all, he spent his time praising the dog, and had dubbed him Remus Dragonslayer, in thanks to his unending loyalty, bravery and out of sheer love. This moved and pleased all the men, who took Remus as their champion and gave him, much to his joy the choicest pieces of venison and the best of the broth of their soups to drink.
Galen for his part had remained unseen up to this moment, and hardly received them with joy, he attempted to walk away however could not as several of the men made noises of mockery. This direct challenge brought out the worst of his terrible temper as he glowered hatefully at Gwilherm. “I daresay that you are mistaken the lot of you, I no more fled than I failed in my duty!” He complained and reminded them, “I did all that I was ordered, and that was all.”
“Yet what man could say, that to do no more than that is noble? When Brigantia commanded that Ziu slaughter the Giants of Bolgadriaus did he stop at only their chief? Or did he duel them all one after the other, because he obeyed more than the letter of the order she gave him?” Roparzh challenged with a great sneer upon his face one that hardly befitted so noble a man’s face.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Gwilherm, who quite agreed with it stood with his jaw firm and his chin set, he might well have come to blows with the old knight were it not for Eahlstan. The old man had largely been ignored by all, so that he had come into the habit of drifting amongst the four thousand souls brought along to Estria by the King.
“What are you men giggling, carousing and complaining about now?” He demanded of the men, who had begun to gather about the three knights, who might otherwise have forgotten him as they had in the days that had just past. However, so commanding was his speech, so furious his tone and great did his eyes flash with heat that none of those gathered wished to challenge or defy him.
“It was Gwilherm and Roparzh, they sought to quarrel with Galen,” Said one man from one side, a knight in all actuality one of those who had arrived upon the same boat as the elder. A young sir who bore a great reverence for the old knight and whom had fought in dozens of battles by his side, and owed him his life. A tall blonde man, with thick moustaches and hair, with a muscular build, a mole upon his left-cheek and who had brown eyes the colour of the earth, and a tough-chin, dressed in similar armour to the other knights though his crest was that of the crimson cardinal-bird, upon a white tabard. He was also the standard-bearer of the Cardénéon family’s banner in Brittia, they being a clan of Lyonesse greatly favoured by éluan, who had volunteered to send the ‘Sieur Bernard’, their heir to serve Aymon.
“Is it not true that Galen returned to court, in the days just before the arrival of the knave, ?lred?”
“Yes,” Was the answer from all, with it thence that Bernard attempted to burst out once more, “But is he not the coward, rather than Roparzh and Gwilherm!”
“If such be the case, is he not guilty of at least not having observed the battle against Balthrorth, therefore who are you to contradict them on this point.” Eahlstan added with a simple shrug. “And given how there are two men present, to speak to one side of the argument and a number of ladies, should this not also matter in how we regard this argument also?”
Many ‘yeas’ followed, even from those such as Bernard who supported Galen, though the knight did it with a red-face and apologetic glance towards his hero. Who for his own part was as unhappy and full of anger as you can imagine.
His was ever the cowardly way, and rather than apologise, and attempt to make right what he had broken, he preferred to flee from their presence, and to fulminate.
“There,” Eahlstan declared with a growl that might well have burst from the lips of a lion, “Now that we have settled this pitiful affair, let us now turn to greater matters; such as that deer-venison you, sir Bernard have left to simmer in that pot there!”
If Gwilherm had known the effect his hot-words, and those of his comrade might have had upon the events of the following days, he might well have preferred to have sought out Galen to make aright what had happened.
*****
Days after their departure for Mt-Sorg, it being the dearest wish of the King to lay claim to the gold that he knew to be his by right, before he saw to the other estates of Estria. Such was the nature of most kings in those days. For most had not the noble spirit of éluan of Neustria or Causantín II of Caledonia. Such being the greatest tragedy of the age, with the greatest being that upon their deaths, far worst kings were to arise throughout the lands of the Caleds and Neustrians.
?thelwulf and the rest of them did not know at that time that the mountain had already been claimed, by Vladin who for his own part had already set men to the task of claiming all the treasures within the Mountain. It was he, who even in the depths of his madness induced by the spirit of Balthrorth, still remembered the trials and tribulations of others enough to disperse amongst them a great deal of the hoard. His generosity had already earned him the love of the hundreds he had brought with him, with a great many of them having already spread out towards the north, to repopulate it and trade their wealth.
The curse held him fast though, as he could no more leave the mountain then, than he could desist from breathing. The sight of the ditch he had dug all around the mountain, along with the wooden-palisade all around it brought all to a halt. They had journeyed far into the forest, only to come to find a vast multitude of the trees cut down so as to build the aforementioned wall.
“What is this?” ?thelwulf wondered to no one in particular, with none capable of answering him for some time.
When one did, it was Eahlstan who let loose a short laugh, “It would appear to me to be a wall.”
“I am aware of that fact, enchanter,” He snapped irritably, having no patience for the enchanter who walked next to the nobles whilst they trotted on horseback.
“They stand between my treasure and I!” Elena shrieked in a rage, from where she rode for the first time by Gwilherm’s side, with Roparzh who rode upon his other side (the three were directly behind the King and Queen).
Riding on the same horse as the half-Brittian knight, Mildburg rolled her eyes having no great desire for gold and jewels she could not fathom the greed that had come to dominate the cousin she loved ever so dearly. If she was mildly irritated, the Queen set an angry look upon her brother, one that told him what she thought of the other woman.
Just the night before she had complained bitterly about how; “How could you choose such a lady? Rich though she may be, she is a Falsveal, Gwilherm!” Keen to appease her as she had approached him in the middle of the camp, “Have you already turned your back upon Eadwin’s sacrifice for us? Or what Morcar did to father?”
This had led to a bitter quarrel, wherein he had reminded her of all that he had endured at ?thelwulf’s hands, and had led to her shedding several tears of rage and he spending a night in utter melancholy. As to the King he refused to step out, save to sneer at his good-brother before he invited his Queen to join him in his tent.
The argument had left the two fractured and miserable, with neither keen to speak to one another, even as they evaded one another’s gaze throughout most of the day.
Hardly eight meters high, and doubtlessly nowhere near as thick, with a well-designed wooden gate, thus was it evident that he who had taken command of Mt-Sorg had taken great care in his preparations to counter them. This worsened the black-fury that was ever present in those days in the spirit of ?thelwulf, who bellowed full of rage, “Who are you? Who is it that has built this wall without my express approval, and has claimed my mountain and gold?!”
The answer when it came was one of flippant indifference, as the head of Vladin appeared at the top, having been alerted to the arrival of the army, by some of his own scouts. He had long suspected given many of those who had come to the mountain in the days after his own arrival, for they desired the treasure also, and had come bearing news of ?thelwulf’s own arrival in Estria. That it was very likely, thought he that the King intended to take a-hold of the dragon-hoard as éluan had the hoard of Mydan.
“I am Vladin, the builder you unjustly hoped to have killed at the claws of Balthrorth the Terrible.” The Dwarf replied haughtily in turn, with the King completely flabbergasted for he had not expected the answer to come from one such as Vladin, let alone for the wall to be the accomplishment of one of his own people.
“Vladin why have you constructed this wall?” Elena cried shaken and outraged, for much the same reasons as her monarch.
“To protect my hoard!” Bellowed Vladin his voice shaking with fury, as he added, “It is mine! I was present at the slaying of Balthrorth and have thusly laid claim to it, and will not share any of it with the likes of ye!”
“How dare you!” ?thelwulf roared, only to turn to Aymon, “Aymon prepare the men, we will slaughter this Dwarf and any who have taken up his claim, to a man… at once!”
“Now see here,” Gwilherm interrupted alarmed, and fearful for his diminutive friend, this drew the ire once again of his good-brother upon himself. “Vladin can be reasoned with, and we will do so, ?thelwulf this is but the dragon-greed that Eahlstan has spoken of many a times.”
“Yea but I will not negotiate with a peasant!” The King shouted pressing his face towards Gwilherm’s with such fury, such hatred that he shrunk then from him. “I am King! ME! By right of succession as much as by conquest, and will not compromise my crown to any!”
“If you will not negotiate, or temper your words, we will have battle then,” Vladin concluded from up above them, as Aymon raised an eyebrow at him only to glance down at the ditch and wall sceptically.
“I do not much like the look, of this wall ?thelwulf,” Aymon complained reasonably, unmoved by his burst of temper. “If he has dug all around it, ten meters deep as this looks to be, I suspect this battle will be hard-fought. We came to seize gold, and fight in open fields, not for a prolonged siege, especially when winter is nigh upon us.”
“I can appease him,” Gwilherm offered softly before he spoke again, with his sister nodding her approval and laying a soothing hand upon the shoulder of her King and husband. Thus soothed, it now fell upon her brother to attempt to parley with Vladin the Builder, this he did with considerable more reason and tact than the other man had. “Vladin? It is I Gwilherm, you remember our bond of old? I am herewith our King I stand before you as lord of Réalwaldr.”
His words did not soften Vladin all that much, they did however succeed in drawing a curt nod of approval from him, “I am glad for you, and congratulate you on that matter.”
“But about the gold-”
“I will not forfeit it to you either!” There followed several cries of support from behind the wall and on top of it, as many of the supporters of Vladin agreed with this sentiment.
“It aggrieves me, deeply Vladin my friend,” Gwilherm attempted again, only to attempt to bargain again with his old friend, “Why not divide up the treasure between all of us? One share to the King and his lords, another for you and still another for the clergy of Estria to aid in rebuilding this land?”
“What did you say?” ?thelwulf complained now, looking as though he intended to strike his good-brother dead then and there.
“?thelwulf calm, this is just, even éluan divided parts of his treasure and gave a great deal to the Temple.” His Queen reasoned head high and eyes pleading with him, so that there did not live a single man in the whole of history who could have refused her at that moment.
Sadly, ?thelwulf was not as other men, he could not only refuse but might well have turned away from her at that moment. His anger and greed was such that he might well have pushed her away from him, so as to assail the walls himself, crossing the single point of land that connected to the gates to challenge Vladin in combat. A challenge that the Dwarf would never have accepted, and that his supporters who were middling folk, had no great desire to have him accept either, this in spite of their having their own honour.
Flabbergasted now himself, when he strove again to remind his friend of just how it was he who had dealt the final blow to the drake, and Remus who distracted him, Roparzh who damaged his eye and Eahlstan who had protected the women, he found Vladin as unmoved as ?thelwulf. “No! I will not yield a single farthing, neither to your lady, nor to your King nor even to you now Gwilherm!”
“He appears fairly possessive,” Eahlstan remarked in a disinterested voice as indifferent a man as there ever was, and every bit as disinterested in the doings of Vladin and ?thelwulf.
The latter of whom rounded now upon him, “Well? Enchanter why do you not throw enchantments upon him, burn down his wall or otherwise gain me his head? Or is it that you are no less worthless to me, as you were to that wife of yours Gwilherm slew!?”
The gaze that the enchanter levelled upon the King was such that even he caught himself, frightened by the dark fury that possessed Eahlstan, who seeing that his liege was properly subdued, withdrew into himself with a sigh of defeat and melancholy, “I am afraid I can do naught, save stare up as you do, for with my staff gone I have indeed lost all… just as Wulfrun prophesized would happen should I cling, to Gwilherm and his quest.”
These words were all that was said for a time, as ?thelwulf ordered the camp to be established thence just outside the walls of Vladin. The situation appeared on the verge of collapsing into one of utter chaos and war, between ?thelwulf and his subjects.
This might well have taken place, had misfortune not struck Réalwaldr and Gwilherm. A messenger was later to arrive in the dead of night, sent hither by Léon the prince.
*****
Left in command of Norwyd, Léon had remained for a few days, waiting until his liege-lord had departed before he did much the same. Leaving a subordinate to command the fort, as he had no desire to do so himself, being of an impetuous and easily bored temperament. His desire was to engage in battle, to have some glory for himself, and to mitigate his brother and the King’s terrible wroth. Aware that the two of them had precious little in the way of self-restraint, though they claimed otherwise, just as he was of how Elena could not possibly control them he had gotten it into his mind to follow them.
This he did with but a few hundred warriors and the bulk of the knights left with him, in Norwyd. The ‘Silver-Falcon’ as he was dubbed by all for the raiment he wore in battle, had armour gleaming more purely than the whitest of flames, more than the god Orcus had arrived in Réalwaldr just as Wigstan had. Adorned in black armour, dark as night and fouler in nature than the worst nightmares of men and with greater hatred than any demon of Hel’s realm, he had struck fear into the hearts of all present in the lands of Eadwin the Betrayed. Wigstan had come three days after the great host of the King had departed, chased away by Wassa, and the rest of the followers of Ziu, who had then begun to see to the rebuilding of some of the local temples before many of their numbers had departed north. Keen to ensure that there be no actions akin to Wigstan’s thereat.
Thinking Wigstan and those still loyal to him a resolved matter, they had cared little for how he had given way completely to madness. Determined to be ‘avenged’ he had come upon Réalwaldr just as many of those people were cutting trees for the reconstruction of the buildings of olde of their lands. He came as a reaper, cutting and tearing all before him with nary a thought for mercy, goodness or whether those who lay before him were women and children. So great was his thirst for vengeance that he slew all those left behind the walls, save for ?lffl?d and Bada.
A wicked flame once lit, is difficult to extinguish as the noble people of Réalwaldr discovered, to their dismay as all fought well and did as best they could to resist the evil that beset itself upon them. Heard charged thither, resplendent in his armour, a-gleam in the light of the suns in his great armour, his war-hammer in hand and the great-helm of the lion of Réalwaldr upon his brow, and a bellow upon his lips. All who saw him took heart, and yet he was no match for Wigstan and his host, for they had numbers in plenty in comparison to he who had less than a tenth of the five hundred of Wigstan and ?lred. For yes indeed, the steward of Réalwaldr had made common cause with the evil nephew of Morcar, with the two determined to lay waste to Gwilherm’s lands.
Such was the devastation and the cruelty with which they slew Heard that all his sons, aye even his youngest, charged and were encircled also, only to be slain. Yet not a one pleaded for his life. Such was the nobility of their line such the courage demonstrated by them that all who bore witness to their cruel slaying murmured, “They are with Ziu! Surely he has favoured them, by inviting them to his great-halls!” And they would not be far-off, methinks given how each one of them brought fear into the wicked heart of Wigstan, and each of them, even the lad slew more than three times their numbers.
This youngest son of Heard though, slew but three and this he did by throwing himself with his father’s sword in hand, upon one man, before slicing at the shins of another and then the feet off a third man. His courage gave heart to his brothers who all cheered him on, even as they charged faster themselves, none of them fearful, all of them majestic as true Kings. It was said that upon their deaths that the people of Réalwaldr all fell forward in defeat, fearful that without the line of Heard to protect them, they had no chance of living.
They were not far-off from the mark, as Wigstan had neither compassion nor good in him by this time, terrible and evil was he as Balthrorth had been before him. A great cry went up amongst the people of Réalwaldr, as the dark-wolves of Falsveal and other lands fell upon them, for dark-wolves they were in that instant. A cry that rent the heavens tore at the very heart of the stones and shook the land and the sea, so that for a thousand years hence there were still tears spilled for the great travesties committed by the hordes of Wigstan and ?lred.
Bada for her part, brave as she was, hid then in the room given to her and her mother, and was rendered mute at the deaths of all her friends. She was to speak once more, though only when it was over and she was saved by brave Léon. Her mother shaken from her greed, and all but a prisoner of Heard for this reason, further bolted her door, pulled all before it when she realised what had happened, having been near the walls when the attack first began.
Tears in her own eyes, fearful for she knew that Wigstan had an evil wish for her, one so wicked that it is unutterable, so terrible was her fright that she might well have leapt then from the second floor o’er the cliff and into the sea with her daughter.
A star arose in the south, a flame was said to have been lit there and a great war-horn was heard that rent the stones, the land and the wind once again; it was Léon. Initially unaware of what was happening, he saw however how the banner of the wolf-wyvern had been torn from the gates, thrown down and cruelly trod upon. It was he who had seen the flames that began to lick up all over the walls and keep, burning further into the ruin that ?lred had left to rot over the course of twenty years of neglect. He, who blew the great horn, lowered his helm and began the great charge for which he was forevermore to be known for!
Léon threw himself against one man after another, rending them to naught. Cutting one wicked soul after another, striking, slashing and parrying with his mighty black-falcon and silver shield, so that he was as the warrior-lord of Neustrian myths, Norbert reborn. Son of the war-god Norbert was a frightening figure to all those who had defied him, and to all those who had done evil in the northern lands of Aemiliemagne. Thus for the wicked servants of Wigstan to compare fair-haired Léon, father of brave and flawless Gaucelin, was the greatest of praises and the most fearful of words on their part.
Though he had been shamed when he separated himself from his much-beloved son, always the fond and proud father, Léon once his battle-fervour ignited burnt through all before him as a flame in a field, his men no less courageous, no less wondrous followed his noble example as best they could. Separated multiple times throughout the battle, for it was ever his way to venture on ahead when mad with battle-hunger, the laughter of the falcon was heard all throughout the valley, the sea and the fields nearest to Réalwaldr. It echoed across not simply the halls, but all the way to the heavens where doubtlessly, the high-gods welcomed it as the cry and laughter of one of their own!
Wigstan might well have pushed forth, might well have burnt down that last obstacle. He might well have inflicted one last misdeed into the history of the land of Réalwaldr, were it not for the terrible fear that overtook him. Abandoned already by ?lred and all his men, he followed after them, every bit as fearful of the terrible violence that had overtaken the castle.
With him he took for a time ?lffl?d, who had been seized when the wall to her chambers was thrown down, torn from her crying, screaming daughter. Such sorrow was a sight to behold, and might well have brought tears to any men not otherwise possessed by the madness of those who had fallen upon Réalwaldr.
She was all the more fearful for her beloved daughter, than she was for herself, her own dishonour and death she could stomach, but not that of her beloved Bada.
Little did she know that the gods had sent thither to her side, not a messenger, nor a King nor her great love Morcar, but that most noble of princes Léon! The Silver-Falcon earned his name, sword lit with a white-light that gleamed and shone with such fervour that the men of Wigstan wept to see it flash towards them. It cut through steel, iron, flesh and tears as the noble prince gave chase after Wigstan, as he fled across the feast-hall which was the sight of the worst of the fighting. Upon a horse did he and the former steward leap, and off they went with beauteous ?lffl?d crying and struggling futilely against the younger man, who fought his way out the keep and into the fields.
Many of his men attempted to intervene between he and Léon, but all failed as the prince gave noble chase, as a hunter might hunt after a particularly delectable deer. His charge was to go down into myth and legend in future days of the world. His son was to later emulate it, and was the only one it seemed capable of it though this was far-off in the future.
Though he failed to do proper battle with Wigstan, Léon was to cut apart the cloak of that man and rend a part of ?lffl?d’s dress, so that she bore a part of her legs to the sun. A scream rent the land, one that tore at the hearts of all the men of the Silver-Falcon’s company. Most especially those who had followed after him, to shield him from as many of the enemy hordes’ as they possibly could. A single action though decided the matter of ?lffl?d’s liberty, when Léon feigned a strike at the dark-horse of Wigstan’s legs, only to reverse his strike towards the man’s neck where he cut and drew blood, not unlike how he had done a number of times before.
In this moment Wigstan withdrew his hold from over ?lffl?d to hold fast at his own neck, where a slim cut lay, as crimson as a newly lit candle-flame in the middle of a temple, just before the altar to the gods.
?lffl?d might well have fallen, might well have found harm were the prince not faster than any other living man in all of Estria (save for his brother). He caught her, abandoning his sword as he did.
And it was then that a terrible thing happened, a thing which any other lady than ?lffl?d might well have regretted, but as Léon lifted up his helm to better check her for injuries, she fell into a dazzling love with him. A love that was to bring more suffering upon her, than any sorrow that Wigstan or Balthrorth could well have inflicted upon her, for though he bore the right-bearing of a prince Léon, was not always as noble as he ought to have been with so good a lady as ?lffl?d. He never misused her, for he was to bear not only her love but that of her daughters, who revered and adored him also, if in a different manner.
The enemy repulsed, with but a few left in Réalwaldr, Léon preferred to see to the lady Bada, to the burial of the people of his friend Gwilherm’s lands, and to the safety and reunion of ?lffl?d with her other daughter, than to continue after Wigstan.
His messenger reported all these doings in breathless worry, to the King, adding that Wigstan was but a few days behind him, and was moving swiftly and with the support of ?lred.
“When will he be here? And how dare Léon have moved away from Norwyd!” ?thelwulf said with much fury.
“It is not your lands that were ravaged! Thank Brigantia and Ziu for Léon!” Gwilherm said having been too stunned as he listened to the messenger’s horrid story. “We must now prepare for battle and destroy Wigstan and his rebellious host!”
“But what of Vladin and his men? What if they should join with the enemy?” Aymon asked alarmed, for he had not forgotten his friend’s orders regarding the peasants upon and behind the walls of Mt-Sorg.
“We shan’t worry about them; we must instead negotiate with Vladin- you messenger, when will Wigstan appear?” Eahlstan queried pointing at the kneeling messenger who cringed and hesitated before he went to speak.
A great-war horn was heard in the distance, with all present struck by horror and panic, as Wigstan arrived thence in their midst to do battle with the King’s men.
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