Blade of Erogrund

Godric sat with a heavy thump on the seat of his chair. Mira more gracefully pulled the hem of her dress aside and sat beside Aeis, who had already resumed his meal.

Reaching for the leather sack, Godric eagerly joined him and they all sat in nearly complete silence, except for the quiet munching of food and the gurgling of the fountain.

This continued for quite some time until Mira threw her hands in the air with an exasperated sigh. “Good lord, will you two ever stop eating?!”

“You could join us, you know,” Godric mentioned. Her plate still sat beside her, largely untouched.

“There is no time for food right now!”

“It’s lunch, so if there ever was a time, it was now.” Godric’s reply was followed with a clever grin. Mira still did not seem to appreciate it.

“Never mind that,” she said hurriedly. “Aeis, can you tell Godric what you told me?”

“Right,” said the other boy, pushing away the last morsels of his meal. “There are a couple things you are going to need to know going into this Council meeting, Godric.”

The other boy nodded and leaned forward in his chair intently. As much as he resented Aeis at the moment, he had no choice but to rely on him.

“First, treat everyone as your enemy.” As if I wasn’t already. “I never finished telling you about Caeros, but if you only know one thing it’s that he has many friends. Ennor is king, but Caeros is ruler, if you get my meaning.

“At the Council today they will inevitably go over an important issue and word on the street is you will be involved. Since no one briefed the patrol last night, it’s safe to assume Ennor will have to send out another. Intelligence on the Dragon’s Nest is crucial at the moment and he won’t rest until we know more about the Dragons’ den.That means they will have to pick another troop.”

“So?” Asked Godric. “I still don’t see why they should include me. I don’t even know how to properly handle a weapon yet.”

“Precisely,” countered Aeis. “You’re vulnerable. See, as much as these meetings are made to look like they are collaborations, they are really just times for each lord to make a power play. The lords work together only so much as they are mandated to; the rest of the time they are at each others’ throats and with you in the mix they will be tougher than ever. There is a strict protocol when it comes to picking members of a patrol. There are ten lords and each is allowed to nominated three members of the patrol. As unfair as it is, Ennor is not counted as one of the ten lords. Instead, he is allowed to veto three nominations in order to have some control of who gets into the patrol, but three is not very many.”

Aeis’s implication sank in slowly. “So,” Godric gathered slowly, “you’re saying that Caeros will try to send me on the patrol?”

“Perhaps,” Aeis concluded. “It isn’t quite that simple, though. In addition to three nominations, each lord can veto one of the other’s nominations, provided that he forfeits one of his. So you can see how this might get difficult.”

“Can’t Ennor just command that one of the lords does or doesn’t send someone? He is king after all.”

“No,” Aeis immediately answered. “The lords would never give up a chance to get rid of one another and Ennor knows it. These patrol usually take incredible casualties, especially on a mission as risky as this one. The opportunity to remove key supporting nobles or officers is too tempting.”

“It’s a game of politics,” Mira explained. “One where if you don’t win, you lose. Ennor is king because everyone tolerates it, not because they obey. Every lord got there because they had friends in high places, like a building held up by columns. Get enough columns conveniently killed while on patrol,” she said grimly, “and the ceiling comes down.”

“Was there anyone like that in the last troop?”

Aeis bowed his head. “Yes. His name was Cavior, a Field Commander who was one of the most vocal supporters for Ennor. Tennilius, one of Caeros’s allies, elected him to head the expedition. Ennor was reluctant but let it go and Cavior had no opposition to it.”

“Tennilius? Is he another one to be wary of?”

“Like I said,” Aeis said, slightly frustrated, “at this point you should be wary of everyone. But yes, he is Caeros’s right-hand man. They both hold high-level stations in the city and are on the Council of Lords. You met his son earlier today.”

Godric wrinkled his nose. “Theronin? Damn, if that’s the son, I can only imagine the father.”

“Exactly.” Reaching for a piece of parchment and paper, Aeis scribbled the names of Ennor and Caeros down with lines under each name. “In the Council, there are two main parties, for lack of a better word. There are those loyal to Ennor and those loyal to Caeros. Ennor is supported by Lady Nihel, Rethemdl, Havillon, and Vyron,” he explained while scrolling their names down under “Ennor” on the paper. “Then there are those loyal to Caeros, which include Tennilius, Enair, and Glamdir. Finally there are two ‘wildcards’, you might say. They are Aireth and Lady Aquine. Their loyalties lie with no one, making them both helpful and incredibly unpredictable.

“That makes ten Lords and Ladies, four in favor of Ennor, four in favor of Caeros, including himself, and two that can be swayed either way.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Godric asked abruptly.

Aeis’s eyes looked away for a moment. “I’m not sure,” he said slowly. “I guess I like you. Both of you,” he added, glancing at Mira. “I want to be sure that you are ready for what is to come.”

“What do you mean?”

The other boy let out a drawn-out breath. “This place isn’t what it looks like. It’s a fortress, yes, but while you’re here - inside it - it’s more like a crypt than a refuge. Every person you see is fighting silently to pull themselves out, no matter who is left behind. Don’t underestimate these men and women. They look pleasing and protecting, but underneath everyone is plotting something.”

Godric’s mind flashed back to that night after they had been found in the wreckage of Dunn. Ennor, Sarah, and Thain had talked of killing them or abandoning them in the forest to die, yet the next morning they had seemed almost kind. The mere thought of how easy it would have been for them dispose of him and Mira sent a shiver down his spine. And Thain had been all for it. How many others will be like that?

“I think you already know what I mean,” Aeis said, looking Godric in the eye.

“Then why should we trust you?” inquired Mira.

Aeis stuck the last bit of food from one of the plates into his mouth. “You shouldn’t.”

Godric leaned back in his chair. He wasn’t sure what to think about this scrawny young watchman. As much as he disliked it, something in his heart told him to keep the boy close.

“One more thing you need to know before you get into that council chamber. They will inevitably talk about the geography of Niron and where the patrol will go, regardless of whether or not you are on it. In that case, you should be aware that...” Aeis stopped for a moment, his face contorted like he was trying to find the right words to explain. “Well, that there are no cities left in Niron.”

Godric raised an eyebrow. “Of course there are; the Blue Guard told us about them all the time. Carahir was there garrison; countless others are in the hills.”

Aeis shook his head. “No there aren’t and there haven’t been for almost twenty years. Dunn and Threst were the last of many villages that filled Niron, but the cities and strongholds you might have heard about have long since been destroyed. I reckon they are nothing more than a pile of moss-covered stone by now.”

“That’s why Thain was so skeptical when I suggested we go to one of the cities,” explained Mira. She seemed almost untouched by the news, leading Godric to assume that she and Aeis had already discussed all this that morning.

“Then why did all of our books and writing speak of great fortresses in Niron?”

“Easy,” replied Aeis. “They were all written before Eroth’s death when manuscripts were still being created. Every city, and now village, of Men has been destroyed by the Dragons. Except this one, of course.”

“And the Blue Guard told us otherwise in order that we would think they were still guarding something,” said Godric, the truth dawning on him darkly.

“Right,” confirmed Aeis.

As they were talking, a girl in a simple brown dress came to door of Naevir and made her way to their table. She was tall and quite attractive with long chestnut hair and a small mouth that smiled brightly when she saw them.

“Master Godric,” she said kindly, “you are summoned to the Council Chamber.”

Godric, Aeis, and Mira stood. The girl shook her head. “I’m sorry, mi’lady,” gesturing to Mira, “but I have been given explicit instructions that you should not come.”

Mira’s face flushed angrily. “And why is that?”

The other girl shrugged her narrow shoulders apologetically. “I am sorry, mi’lady, I don’t know.”

“It’s alright,” Godric reassured her. “I will let you know of anything important.”

Mira clenched her fists, but relaxed with a deep breath. “Fine. I guess I will stay here.” She sat, clearly still frustrated, at the table and opened another book.

The girl looked pleadingly at the boys and soundlessly stepped out of the chamber with Godric and Aeis beside her.

The Council Chamber looked much has it had the day before, though a significantly greater collection of men and women filled it. Except for this difference everything appeared just as it had been left the night before, save that ten chairs had been arranged around the vast map-table that filled the center of the room. In these ten chairs sat the ten lords and ladies that, Godric rightly assumed, made up the Council of Lords.

Ennor stood at the far side of the table as he had before. This time his appearance was more suitable for the position of king. His dark, ragged mane had been combed back in a formal style and it looked like he wore a fresh set of clothes that fitted him and his office well.

The lords and ladies were also well adorned in varying levels of pomp and ceremony. Behind each chair stood the attendants and warriors whose loyalty lay with that respective sovereign, though Thain was the only such person beside Ennor. Judging by the numerous looks of disdain and resentment that shot around the table like daggers, Aeis’s former statements about the rivalry between the lords was not overstated.

Unsure of where to stand, Aeis and Godric took a position at the back of the room not quite directly opposite Ennor.

The young king waited only a short while before clearing his throat in an attempt to elicit the attention of attention of the council. The effort was wasted, however, and they continued to murmur, whisper, and talk among themselves. In response, he slammed a fist on the table and the room fell quiet.

“Now that you are all attentive to the affairs at hand I will inform you, if you have not already guessed, of the reason you are here.” Ennor pointed to a second, nearly identical cliff to the one that represented Biren-Larath. “Two weeks ago a dispatch was sent from this fortress to look into the Dragon Nest, otherwise known as Draeknol. Last night they were attacked right outside our gates and slain.

“I think I speak for the Council when I say that it is a necessity to discover more about Draeknol and, because of that, it is necessary to deploy another patrol. As is the duty of the King of Niron, I open the floor to the nominating of members who shall fill this post.”

One of the lords pushed back his chair and stood solemnly. “Before we begin, sire, I think it is fitting to have a moment of silence in order to commemorate those that fell this past night.”

Ennor bowed his head in agreement, leaving the chamber hauntingly silent. He then nodded the conclusion of the moment. “Yes, very suitable, Lord Havillon. Thank you. Now, who would like to begin the nominations?”

And so the Council began. Much how Aeis had described, each lord and lady stood in turn and called out the name of their elected participant in the patrol. Godric recognized none of the names, but several times Aeis murmured in surprise or disgust. Only two vetoes were used by the Council of Lords, one by a lord and another a lady, in addition to one used by Ennor. After each of the lords and ladies had selected two members, the final round of nominations began.

Aeis leaned in to whisper in Godric’s ear. “We might be in the clear. It will be dangerous for Caeros to try anything now with so many vetoes left in Ennor’s control.”

One of the ladies who sat two chairs from Caeros stood. She was tall and spindly with a dagger-shaped face and long, curly hair. Her skin was drawn tight around her cheeks and hands almost like someone was trying to cover a terrible sight beneath. “I nominate, as is my position of a member on the Council of Lords, King Ennor of Biren-Larath.”

The Council released a collective gasp, except for Caeros and the cold looking man that sat next to him who bore a striking resemblance to Theronin.

“You must be joking,” challenged Havillon.

The woman, who Aeis identified as Lady Aquine, shook her head, ill-amused. “No. It appears to me that if the King is so inclined as to prolong these continued casualties, why should he not be one of them?”

“Too bad for you,” growled Thain through his impressive beard. “Such a nomination is not allowed.”

The man that sat beside Caeros, who Godric assumed was Tennilius, stood regally. “If I may, Master Dwarf.” His voice was smooth and soft like honey, but it carried an underlying coldness that Godric could not shake. “The Law states that every able-bodied citizen of this fortress shares the responsibility of its defense, making them all equally apt to serve in its patrols. Assuming that Ennor is in fact able-bodied, though some might question able-minded,” he was met with a soft chuckle from several of the lords, “it is just that he should be nominated to participate.”

“That is the Law,” seconded one of the lords.

Another lord stood at the table. “I veto this nomination and in doing so forfeit my third and final nomination.”

Tennilius nodded his satisfaction and was seated. Ennor’s eyes shot daggers at the two nobles while his face remained stoic. Lady Aquine named another and the ceremony continued. The next to lords nominated their choices, both of which were accepted without dispute.

Caeros stood when it came to be his turn; his eyes flashed challengingly to where Godric and Aeis stood before returning their gaze to the Council. “I nominate Declan of the Iris Guard.”

Ennor shook his head and spoke in a solemn voice. “I am sorry, Lord Caeros, but as Tennilius has been kind enough to demonstrate already, only able-bodied men are to participate on patrol. Captain Declan is currently in the infirmary for a broken right arm and numerous serious burns from this past night’s attack. As such he is no longer able-bodied.”

Caeros smiled humorlessly, drawing a small, unmarked scroll out of his robes. “As it happens, King Ennor, my clerks have signed a waver saying that he is cured well enough of his injuries and suitable for patrol.”

Aeis cursed quietly, whispering to Godric, “That’s rat-scat. More like he paid off a couple rogues to fake a signature.”

“Why would he do that?” Godric murmured.

“Caeros knows that Ennor couldn’t live himself if he sent a disabled man out on such a dangerous task. He’s trying to eat up the vetoes that Ennor has left.”

None of the other lords or ladies seemed concerned, but Ennor scowled deeply.

“I veto this nomination,” he replied.

Caeros’s smile widened, turning into a jagged scar-like mark that marred his dark face. “Very well then. I nominate Saraycir, Lieutenant of Biren-Larath.”

Godric glanced questioningly at Aeis. “Saraycir is Sarah’s full name,” the watchman answered. “Again, he knows that Ennor won’t risk her. Ennor cares too deeply for her.” This was news to Godric, he nodded his understanding.

Sure enough, Ennor vetoed the nomination immediately.

“Probably for the better,” said Tennilius with utter seriousness. “Word is that she is lacking in skill with a blade.” Ennor shot him a withering glare, but he either missed it or ignored it.

At last Caeros showed no restraint in his satisfaction. His eyes twinkled like a frost-covered icicle on a winter morning and his smile cut shamelessly across his smug face. “I nominate Godric Wielder of Erogrund.”

A conglomeration of shouts, mutters, and sharp hisses were Caeros’s only response. They carried on for several minutes, each striving to be heard over the other, but all mellowing into a subtle sea of whispers after Ennor raised a hand to silence them.

“Godric is not a citizen of this fortress or kingdom and therefore is not counted as one who can participate in the patrol.” The King’s words were sound, followed only by a lingering trace of anger at his peer’s boldness.

“A shame,” said Caeros. “However, Law says that should an individual remain in the refuge of this fortress for more than a month they are legally recognized as a citizen of it. Therefore, I make a motion that Godric should either be expelled from the walls of this city or accept the responsibility of remaining within it.”

“Now listen here, you,” Thain barked. “This is a highly premature decision. The boy has stayed here not two full days and you would already have him join its ranks? He, as well as his companion, have more than three weeks before he must make such a choice.”

“True,” answered Caeros, “but seeing as he brought such a weapon as Erogrund with him, I can hardly see that we can allow him to depart with it.”

“If you have a point, Lord Caeros, I am open to hearing it,” Ennor challenged as anger rose in his voice.

“Very well, then,” Caeros replied with an exasperated sigh. “Seeing as we can hardly allow the boy, while Erogrund remains in his possession, to leave the city, I see that choice of whether or not he remains is answered for him. And, because this decision is already made, he is as good as a citizen of this fortress and therefore suitable to participate in this patrol.”

This speech ended with a peculiar uneasiness settling on the Council. No one said a word, but many looks of concern and satisfaction were exchanged between those seated.

“Well?” questioned Caeros. “Is my nomination accepted by the Council?”

Again he was only met by uneasiness until Ennor grimly answered. “It appears that your conclusion is sound. However, I must stipulate that he shall not be sent on a patrol until the month long period is complete.”

Tennilius stood beside Caeros. “Come now, Ennor, I see no need for that.”

“As it happens, I do,” retorted Ennor. “I am well aware of your learnedness in Law, Tennilius, but as it happens I too am well aware of our customs and see no reason why you should not humor me in this matter.”

Caeros gritted his teeth in an ill-made attempt to disguise his anger. “If it is in your will to delay the patrol for a month, so be it.”

“It is,” Ennor answered. “Does anyone wish to veto this nomination?” His eyes peered with a mixture of defiance and hopefulness at the lords that sat around the table. They all either returned his look with stony confidence or turned away, refusing to return his gaze.

“It appears that there are no objections.” Caeros resumed his seat.

Godric’s heart sank. Ennor had bought him some time, but to what avail?

Tennilius stood as was his place after Caeros. “I nominate Theronin, Captain of Biren-Larath.”