Dark Age Year 872
Twelfth day of the Forth month
After walking through the forest with Quintus and his soldiers, with several of them carrying stretchers for their dead for what felt to Cenric like several hours, if not only several minutes, Cenric couldn’t really focus on what was around him. He worried about Tharos. Sure, Rayner was right that Tharos had been through worse, and he himself had seen it first-hand. Still, he couldn’t help but worry about a man he regarded as a mentor and friend. As he started to focus on his surroundings more, Cenric could see in the distance what looked like smoke trails from several small campfires. The dark smoke slowly drifted through the air, carried by the breeze, and dissipated as if merging with the sky. As they passed more bushes, trees, and groves into a clearing that sloped uphill, Cenric looked up and spotted what appeared to be the remnants of an old hill fort belonging to his people. The steep and wide hill had been flattened and widened over time, with layers of structures built upon each other, resembling stacked stairs. It had a massive open dirt roadway that led up to the top, with side paths leading to other parts of the fort. From this distance, he couldn’t see any symbols or markings that would have told him which tribe built this Hillfort, but it looked old, maybe several decades or even older than that, maybe even a century or two old.
It was much larger than the one near his village of Dellcreek, and he remembered how he once looked upon that Hillfort with a sense of wonder. In fact, seeing and living in the shadow of that Hillfort as a boy often made him feel safe. Sometimes when there was nothing to do, he and Estrid would watch the comings and goings, even though it was within the walls of that very same Hillfort that his father lost his life and died in battle. His father was called Helgath the Handsome and was one of the village’s blacksmiths. He was named so because his face had the grace and beauty of a woman, but he also had the robust and dignified body of a man in his prime. As a small boy, Cenric was often told and compared to his father. He looked and acted in many ways similar to his father when he was a small boy, but he was told and compared to his mother in small ways. He was told he was clever like his mother and had her eyes and hair. She was called Winfried The Forest-Eyed, a woman of remarkable beauty and charm. She was one of the village’s healers who sometimes had visions sent to her by the gods, most of which were regarded to be quite accurate. He didn’t know how to feel about being compared to his parents whom he never knew. He knew that through him, they lived on, but he was his own person, and he didn’t want to be chained to people he didn’t know even if it was them who gave him life. Hearing stories about them didn’t really help the matter because he would never truly know them, only what people remembered of them, which were nothing more than mere shades compared to who they were when they walked among the living. However, if he had known as a small boy what he knows now, he would have never felt safe in the Hillfort. These few years of travel had taught him that the feeling of safety was an illusion, a temporary state, a comforting lie that he and many others bought into. He sometimes wondered if it was that illusion of safety that ultimately cost his own father his life within the walls of that Hillfort, which also led to his mother’s death at his birth. Tharos would often tell him during their many sparring sessions that complacency was a slow and subtle killer, claiming the lives of more warriors than he wanted or could even count.
This Hillfort, unlike the one in Dellcreek, was smaller and less complex. It had several layers of walls, two longhouses, and several other buildings, some of which were two to three stories tall, along with multiple layers of earthworks. Although it appeared to have been abandoned, its wooden walls had massive gaps in them. Cenric could see where there should have been a wall, but it was no longer there, and some of the earthworks had been filled in, perhaps by nature or other people who had come to claim this place as their own. Perhaps the walls rotted away over time or were destroyed in the remnants of a siege or battle that no one remembers or cares about any more. He wondered to himself where the people who built this Hillfort went. He hadn’t seen any signs of villages that belonged to his people so far; most of the settlements belonged to a mix of people often from distant lands who decided to set up shop on the coast after washing up upon the shore or being stuck here by the fickle winds of fortune and decided to make the best of a bad situation. And most of them seemed like decent enough folk even if their appearance and customs were strange, if not alien to him. Although Cenric was sure they felt the same way towards them.
Such scenes had become a familiar sight for Cenric. If he had a copper coin for every abandoned village or ruin they came across, he would have enough to feed himself on bread three times a day for the next week or two. Many times they passed through deserted villages, most of them burnt to the ground, stripped of anything valuable, with crops destroyed and animals slaughtered without mercy. Occasionally, they would find bodies of people dressed in nice outfits, usually the head of the village or other important individuals, often missing teeth that appeared to have been ripped out or fingers that had been cut off. Some of these bodies were even disembowelled, and in the entrails, Cenric could see a glimmer of shine in them. Like the kind of shine you get from coins or precious gems. Other times, when they investigated these abandoned settlements to look for anything of value or interest, Cenric would sometimes find, to his horror, in abandoned homes and buildings the remains of people who had been chopped and cut apart like pigs, often with their tongues removed and their brains scooped out. Men, women, children, and the elderly—it didn’t matter, severed heads, chopped up limbs, and torsos and any other assorted body parts were often left in piles in the abandoned homes or even just out in the fields to simmer and rot in the elements. More to his horror, they showed signs of being fed upon, most likely either by wild animals or some sort of monster, or even more horrifyingly, thought to Cenric and one he suspected was the truth, by other people. He couldn’t fathom what kind and level of madness or desperation would push people to chop others up, consume their flesh, and then dispose of them like animals.
Other small settlements were often left in a state of disrepair and decay, as if the people had just vanished, for various reasons he could imagine such as bad harvests, plague, or warfare. With the rest of the inhabitants scattered to the four winds, either as slaves in bondage or, as Cenric hoped, as freemen looking for a new place to call home. The untilled fields and small hovels were reclaimed by nature, with houses strangled by growing and trailing vines, and untilled fields were becoming beds of untidy weeds, sometimes covering shallow graves or animal corpses left behind. Nature had now claimed these abandoned places. Occasionally, they stumbled upon the skeletal remnants of former towns and cities, belonging to peoples that no longer exist, who haven’t existed for several centuries or more. Perhaps even a millennium or two. Most of them were people they knew nothing about, including Tharos. However, on rare occasions, they came across something so old that Tharos recognised and would sometimes share stories about the people he remembered. To their relief, they didn’t encounter much in these ruins aside from signs of temporary squatters or remnants of long-lost and forgotten times, and not untold and unnamed horrors of yesteryear.
As they got closer to the Hillfort, perhaps only a few hundred feet away from the entrance, with the smell of smoke and cooking filled his lungs. He could smell all sorts of meat and vegetables being cooked, which made his mouth water. As they walked up towards it, waiting for them was a young dark-skinned man. Cenric thought he looked similar to Jabari, the Navertin merchant they met several months ago, except Jabari looked older and more muscular. This man, in contrast, was a bit shorter with a smaller frame, slim with tight and skinny limbs, along with light blue eyes with a which where almost hidden by the dark-rimmed circular glasses he wore. His long black hair was twisted into small intricate knots and tied together at the back. He was wearing a tidy dark robe along with pointed fur shoes. His face was round and broad, but on his wide forehead, there was a deep cross-shaped scar that started in the centre of his forehead and ran down between his eyes. Tied to his belt was a straight-bladed dagger, and along with a long needle-like sword. As he saw them approach, Cenric watched as he rushed up to them, pausing only feet away from Quintus, who halted at his approach.
“Your lordship,” he stuttered out as he gave a quick but nervous bow. Cenric could see underneath his robes. His arms and legs were shaking a bit.
“Yes, what is it Talon.” Quintus asked, cutting him off before he could continue speaking
“The embassies from Chalybs have arrived, your lordship,” Talon answered with a stutter, still slurring his words nervously.
“I see. How long have they been waiting for?”
“About an hour, your lordship,” Quintus sighed as he heard this.
“Could you inform them I will see them shortly. Is there anything else?”
“Yes.” he continued speaking. “The person that was bitten. He is alive for now, sir, but we don’t know if.” Talos looked to the side. “If he will last the day.”
“I see,” Quintus said flatly. “Make sure someone is keeping an eye on him in case he takes a turn for the worse. I will not have people say that I, Quintus, do not honour the deeds of those who come to save my life.” As he said this, he turned to both him and Rayner. Talos eyed both of them curiously as he set his dark-rimmed glasses down, adjusting them on his nose.
“These are his companions,” Quintus said, acknowledging Talos’ curiosity.
“I am Cenric of Dellcreek,” he introduced himself, reaching out his hand to shake. “And this is Rayner the Crimson Wolf.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Talon replied, shaking his hand. Cenric noticed that his skin was quite soft. “I am Talon Zatta.” Talon then reached to shake Rayner’s hand, and as he did so, Cenric saw that he recoiled back for a second as Rayner gripped his hand, which was almost twice, if not three times, the size of Talon’s hand. “That’s a tight grip you’ve got.”
“You’ve got such soft hands,” Rayner remarked. Talon stretched his face nervously as a small chuckle escaped his mouth. “Sadly I am not a mighty warrior like yourself. I am a man of letters.”
“Ah, so you’re another milk drinker,” Rayner said, chuckling, with Talon giving him an uncomfortable laugh in response as he glanced at Quintus. As the exchange continued, Quintus spoke up, turning to both of them. “Your friend Tharos is in that tent over there.” he said, pointing to a tent at the far back, next to the ruins of what was once a longhouse. “I have matters to attend to. In the meantime, make yourself at home.”
“Will do,” he said, and with that, Quintus and the rest of the entourage walked away, heading to the centre of the camp where there was a massive tent with a symbol of a flower on it. As Quintus and company left, leaving them alone, both him and Rayner made their way to the apothecary’s tent. All around them were soldiers and various camp followers. It reminded him of Elias’ camp. As he thought about it, he felt a tightness around his neck starting to form. That feeling quickly vanished when he realised he wasn’t there any more. He was a free man, not a slave nor some mage’s plaything. Although Cenric was hungry and still wanted to make sure Tharos was alright, as they were about to reach the tent in question, maybe a few feet away from it, Cenric heard something. He heard someone call out for Rayner, a few paces behind him.
“Rayner, is that you?” It was the voice of a young man, clearly a wilder. Cenric could tell that much because he had a strong northern accent. As Cenric turned around, he saw Rayner doing the same, looking at this person, and the normally angry look that scared Rayner’s face softened slightly as Cenric could tell that Rayner knew this person. The person in front of them was a young man of medium height and build with bright blue eyes, short and wavy auburn hair, adorned with a well-groomed moustache. He had several small scars on his bearded face and button nose, along with a dark green tattoo on his right eye in the style of vines, along with lean and limber limbs, wearing what looked like farmer clothing covered by armour made from the hide of several bears and wolves held together by leather straps and small metal plates. On his back was a weapon Cenric couldn’t recognise. It was a long stick with a half-moon-shaped blade at the end and along with a short sword and a small knife that looked like it was made from animal bone tied to his belt.
As Rayner and the unknown individual approached each other, their walking pace quickened. As they got closer to one another, they gained more speed and then collided with a quick burst of speed, bumping heads like raging bulls and shouting like roaring tigers. “Aghi,” Rayner roared in delight, and the young man echoed, “Rayner. It’s good to see you, you big bastard,” laughing merrily.
“Same to you. So where is Asta?” Rayner asked.
“Oh, she’s over there,” Aghi gestured towards a woman about thirty feet away conversing with some soldiers. He called out, shouting at the top of his lungs “Asta, get over here.” Cenric then turned his attention to the woman standing maybe several feet away from them near another tent, among a group of soldiers, who where cooking some wild game on a spit
“What is it, brother?” she responded, yelling back turning around and widening her eyes as she saw Rayner. “Rayner is here,” Aghi informed her, prompting her to rush towards Rayner and crash into him in a headbutt before giving him a small kiss on the cheek. Rayner responded with a dismissive snort.
“Stop, Asta, you’re going to embarrass me in front of the whelp,” Rayner said as he blushed slightly. Cenric tried to look away, to hide a small but cheeky smile that was starting to form on his face. Asta was a woman of average height with a slim and limber build, bright blue eyes, long wavy auburn hair that was shaved clean on the side of her fair skull, with the top being full of hair tied in a ponytail, along with a tight and compact figure. She bore scars on her face and a vine-like tattoo on the left side, similar to her brother. She wore clothing and armour resembling her brother’s, with two small hand axes and a bone knife tied to her belt. In fact, she looked almost identical to her brother aside from being a woman, having different scars, and styling her hair differently.
“It’s good to see you two. So, Aghi, where did you get that toothpick from?” Rayner said, pointing to the weapon on Aghi’s back.
“Oh, this thing. I stole it off some milk drinker from Kenshi. The guy broke my axe with his bare hands, then sis got up behind him and cut his head off while he wasn’t looking,” he laughed, and Rayner joined him.
“Oh, brother, you’re going to give me a big head. I can’t take all the credit; I only got in because he was busy fighting you,” Asta added.
“So, what have you been up to? I heard you got captured by some mage.”
“I was. I broke out and cracked open his skull.”
“That’s our Rayner,” both of them said at once. All three of them were laughing, and as the laughter died down, Cenric noticed that both Aghi and Asta were looking at him.
“Rayner, who is the kid with you? Is that your son that you told us about.” Rayner had a son, a revelation that Cenric didn’t think he would know about. That started echoing out in his mind. Rayner never mentioned that he had a family; in fact, he didn’t talk much about his past. As Cenric continued to listen more attentively, Rayner turned to him. “Some whelp I found while on the road,” Rayner said. As Rayner looked at him, he saw Rayner put his finger up to his lips and start to mouth “Don’t say a word.” At this point, Cenric decided to introduce himself. Moving in closer, he offered his hand. “Cenric of Dellcreek. Nice to meet you all.”
“Same here. Any companions of Rayner or friends of others are friends of mine, right sister?”
“Yes, brother.”
“Well, I am Aghi of Red River, and this here,” he gestured to the woman next to him, “This is my sister, Asta.” As he did so, Asta gave a small punch in the arm, causing Aghi to recoil back an inch.
“What was that for?”
“I can introduce myself, brother.”
“Fine, sis,” he said as he gave her a small punch in the arm back.
“So, what brought you both here?” Aghi asked the both of them.
“We were going to the twin cities looking for some work,” Cenric said. “When we came across Quintus who needed some help with some spiders.”
“So that person who got rushed to the apothecary is a friend of yours, the one they call Tharos,” Aghi asked. “That Mercenary we’ve been hearing about.”
“Yes, that would be him. He’s teaching me swordsmanship.”
“And the milk drinker I owe a life debt to,” Rayner added, as he pointed to the tent.
“Wait, you lost a duel,” Asta asked. Rayner looked down at the ground for a moment. “Yes, multiple times, in fact.”
Both Aghi and Asta whistled at once. “He must be quite the warrior then. If he beat you and survived a bite from an Arachne. Looks like all those rumours about him were true after all,” Aghi said.
“Don’t remind me,” Rayner sighed in response. Aghi turned to his sister. “Hey sis, you were complaining about not being able to find a strong man to have a child with. If he recovers, maybe you should spend the night with him. Sounds like he’s got strong blood in him.” Aghi laughed, and as he did so, he got punched in the face, with a little bit of blood dripping from his nose. “I was only kidding, sister.”
“Who I lie with is none of your business, brother,” she said, her voice tinged with anger.
“Sorry, sister, I was just trying to help,” he said apologetically. “I just don’t want you to waste your good years. I would at least like you to enjoy the joys of motherhood, and I would like to be an uncle before we all end up in the halls of battle,” Aghi said before turning to both of them again.
“How about you two join us for some food? The meat is good, and the ale is plentiful.”
“Thank you for the offer, but I want to stay by Tharos’ side,” he said.
“Are you sure?” Rayner asked him.
“Yes, I am sure.”
“I see,” Aghi said, standing and listening, looking a bit disappointed. “What about you, Rayner? Want to join us? It’s been ages. I am sure you’ve got some interesting stories to share.”
“Gladly. Killing bugs works up an appetite,” he said, rubbing his well-muscled belly before turning to Cenric. “I will save you some food.” Cenric’s eyes lit up at that. With that, Rayner, Aghi, and Asta left, leaving Cenric alone by the tent. Cenric turned around and headed inside.
