Story Of Rozdgalen: War

Prologue

Thane was walking slowly amongst the cinders and the dead bodies. The battle was over for few hours now, and the corpses have already started to rot, but the odor didn’t bother the warrior. He was wandering around the battlefield, as if it was meadow, speckled with flowers, and not the dead. His long, light cloak was hooking on protruding limbs, or fragments of the ordnance. His every step was followed by a squelching as he was stepping into puddles of blood.

“My Lord?” a quiet, hesitant voice of one of his servants who was following him all the time in silence, spoke. “We checked. Everyone is dead.”

These words didn’t make any impression on him. In fact, he expected to hear them. His lips curled up delicately in a sadistic smile. He defeated the Rozdgalen army completely and utterly. It was an achievement that not many leaders could praise themselves with. Despite his already high position, it was putting him even higher in hierarchy of the Kingdom of East. There was only one tiny detail that was stopping this day from going down in history without any blemish.

“Not everyone” he replied with a low, dignified tone. He stopped next to one of the dead bodies.

It was an aged man. Through the streams of blood that still hasn’t clotted, grey hair and beard was visible. His face congealed in a dumb grimace of pain. From the opened side and shoulder the blood was slowly seeping, coming directly on Thane’s boots. This corpse was his greatest achievement. Rozdgalen prided itself on the elite formation of the Black Cloaks – in the entire Empire was only five hundred vowed warriors, not counting in their apprentices. Many legends have been told about this group, not only in the Empire, but even in the Kingdom of East. Those more timorous were saying that the Black Cloaks were even using magic during the fight.

But even if it was truth, magic still wasn’t enough to protect one of them from the heavy weapon. The wound on his side was as wide as hand of the fully grown man, just as the wound on his shoulder. Both were dealt with the same weapon, with the same thrust. On Thane’s sword still remained some of the blood that belonged to Grim – the killed member of the Black Cloaks.

“My Lord?” the same servant asked, clearly not knowing what knight meant.

“One survived” was the simple answer, expressed in a flat tone.

“My Lord, with all due respect, but…”

“There were two members of the Black Cloaks” Thane interrupted him in mid-sentence. “One lies here under my feet, and the second one has managed to escape.” The warrior of an impressive physique turned around now to face his servant. His grey eyes seemed to be digging holes in huddled out of fear from his Lord, scrawny young man. “And I want to get both of their cloaks. They will be looking great in my chambers, right above the chimney. I will be seating, staring at them with a cup of wine in my hand, and a barrel behind my back, surrounded by as many women, as my chamber will fit, and I’ll be talking about this day as one of the most important ones in the history of our Kingdom” he kept trotting out with a confident smile on his face. As for the man who was in his early thirties, such smile looked at least comical, but Fennik didn’t dare to say it out loud.

“What am I supposed to do, my Lord?” he asked instead, still bowing in front of the knight.

“Send for him the hounds and the Hunters” Thane replied, not believing that he had to tell such obvious thing. “I want to get him. Dead or alive, it doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, my Lord” Fennik replied, bowing even deeper, if it was possible.

“Jack!” Thane exclaimed. Not ten seconds have passed before the second one of the knight’s servants appeared. He was a complete opposite to Fennik. That one was scrawny, had a small hump from the never-ending bowing in front of his Lord. He was wearing a well-worn clothing that was jaggy in some spots. His hair were tangled, covered with dust and mud. What used to be a fair blond, now looked more like an undergrowth.

The one named Jack was a proudly appearing young man who didn’t show any trail of fear of his Lord. He was so brave that he was actually looking him in the eye. He was walking proudly straightened with a small, confident smirk on his lips. He had a clean, expensively-looking clothes, and his long hair were looking freshly and clean; they were fastened together in a small ponytail with a silver barrette. He had light blond hair, just as most of the habitants of Kingdom of East had. Even if he resembled a nobleman, he bowed in front of the knight.

“Yes, my Lord?” he asked with a proud voice. He kept his both hands entwined behind his back and his head was slightly uplifted.

“I want to have his things as the spoils of war” Thane said, completely ignoring Jack’s over confident tone. “When you’re done, burn the body.”

“But my Lord” Fennik barged in. “Burning the bodies goes against our faith. I’m sure the gods won’t like it, and..”

“Do you really think that I care about such trivial matters?” Thane interrupted him. “I don’t care what the gods will think about it. Burn his body, and scatter the ashes on the wind.”

In all cultures burning the dead bodies, and later scattering the ashes on the wind, meant the greatest contempt for the dead. According to the beliefs, it made impossible for the dead to gain an eternal life, and condemned him. In eyes of the priests it was coming across as one of the grave and unforgivable sins. For this reason burning the bodies happened extremely rarely, if at all.

“Yes, my Lord” Jack replied, bowing slightly. Fennik mimicked his companion, though a little unwillingly.

“It will be done, my Lord” Fennik said, and bowed. He then proceeded to do Thane’s bidding alongside Jack.

The noble-looking servant began to undress the Grim’s corpse. His most valuable equipment – the cloak that told of his affiliation to the Black Cloaks and the two swords made of the Black Steel were the greatest testimony of Thane’s victory. Value of these things was almost indescribable – they were great as a trophy, and they could be sold for a great price on the black market.

Jack took the two twin-swords in his hands and examined them closely. The material – Black Steel – was almost indestructible. Few kinds of metal and steel, combined together, and strengthened with the Black Fire in the forge of Mountain Ridge created a rustproof material that was impossible to jag and to scratch. It was said that these swords were even capable of cutting other weapons in half, while in combat. The blades were matt, and no light was reflected by them what made them impossible to see when it was dark.

The cloak wasn’t made of any particular material – it was just a simple wool, dyed black with some additional fur on the edges that provided warmth for the one who wore it. But still, it was a recognizable symbol of the Black Cloaks. In fact, no other military structure used it, whether in the Rozdgalen Empire or the Kingdom of East.

“Prepare the stack” Jack said to others who were with them. “We must do it before it starts raining.”

Other nameless Thane’s servants started to collect the wood and some other flammable materials, in order to form a stack. Heavy clouds began to gather above them, threatening with rain. If they wanted to burn the body, they had to hurry.

It wasn’t long before the stack was formed. Two men dragged Grim’s corpse on woods and put it on fire, literally seconds before the first raindrops began to fall. But it was already too late for rain to extinguish the stack, as flames were devouring more and more of the corpse. The unpleasant odor of burning body soon filled the air, making its way into men’s lungs.

Thane was watching the burning stack with a satisfied smirk. He had his hands crossed on his chest.

“You summoned us, my Lord” a voice behind him said. Knight turned around to see who it was.

Jaq – leader of the Dark Hunters was standing right in front of him, signaling that he was ready to take the orders. He, just as the rest of his formation, had somewhat comical appearance. He wore a navy blue tunic with hood, and a similar mask that covered half of his face, leaving the left eye exposed. He had a small crossbow, strapped on his back, and a one-handed sword, clapped to his belt.

“Take the hounds and hunt the second Black Cloak” Thane said. “He headed west, towards Rozdgalen. Catch him, and bring him to me. Dead or alive, it doesn’t matter.”

“As you wish, my Lord” Jaq replied, bowing deeply. He then spun on his heel and said something to his men. They quickly disappeared, and Thane heard them leaving on their horses. He smiled lightly under his nose. Even if this remaining Black Cloak was a skilled warrior, it was unlikely for him to stand alone against ten Dark Hunters.

Thane abandoned all of these thoughts right now. He looked again at the burning stack and smiled even wider. Even the rain couldn’t now spoil his mood. This day would most certainly go down in history, and he would be remembered as the greatest General of the Kingdom of East. He was watching closely as the smoke was being carried by the wind westward. Soon he will earn the second bounty.