The Second Age Year 872
Thirtieth day of the fourth month
On a clear and cool spring night, Tharos sat alone on the fortress’s battlements with a bottle of wine and a few silver goblets by his side. The only indication of his presence was the faint, flickering light of a campfire or torch that illuminated his form. Below him, Quintus and the Black Flowers were celebrating another great victory. The attack on the fort had gone better than expected. They had crept in through the mines, undetected, when all was silent and still. They then emerged from the earth to take the fortress with lightning speed, facing little resistance from the defenders. All in all, it was a successful military campaign, and most importantly, their money issues were resolved for the time being.
As he poured himself a goblet of wine and enjoyed some peace and quiet, he heard footsteps, followed by the sound of a walking stick. When he turned around, he saw that it was Cenric. He looked much better; his skin was less pale and had a slight rosy hue. Looking at him more closely, he noticed red marks on his face and neck. As Cenric came closer, he could faintly smell a woman’s perfume.
“Mind if I join you?” Cenric asked. “it’s getting a little nosy down there.”
“Sure, I don’t mind if the mighty hero joins little old me for a drink.”
Cenric frowned at him. “Please don’t say that. I was hounded enough on the way here.”
“Yes, I can see that. So, what’s her name, or do I need to pry it from your mind?”
Cenric’s face then flushed a rosy red. “I don’t know, and there was more than one. It was a couple.” He said this as he sat down, trying to rub out the marks with one hand while putting the walking stick down with the other. “They wanted to thank me for helping win the battle. One of them said they wanted me to join them in their tent later tonight.”
Tharos raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to take her up on her offer?” he asked.
“No, I told her I was sharing a tent with you and Rayner. But I thanked her for offering anyway.”
Tharos clasped his face in his hands and let out a deep sigh. “I don’t think you understood what she meant.”
Cenric looked almost panicked. “Did I do something wrong? Was I rude to her?”
“No, nothing like that,” he replied. “It’s just that you’re completely clueless when it comes to women.” He said this as he took another sip of wine. “But now I come to think of it, in your case it probably was the right thing to do. There’s always next time.”
“Next time for what?” Cenric asked.
“Never mind,” he said as stared out at the celebrations below. He then saw Cenric pointing at Tharos’s goblet. “Can I try some of that?” he asked.
Tharos passed him a silver goblet and poured Cenric a glass. “It’s just some red wine I found in the store room, so don’t expect much. It’s probably been watered down for the soldiers.”
Cenric gave it a quick sniff, grabbed the goblet and downed its contents in one gulp. “Bah!” he exclaimed, sticking out his tongue. “How do you drink this stuff?”
“It’s an acquired taste,” he replied, swirling the wine in his glass before setting it down beside him. “We had better wine back in Zarbar. It’s a shame the city had to be destroyed.”
“Do you regret doing that?” Cenric asked him.
“At first I did. But I realised it doesn’t matter in the end. There will be another one like it in the future.” Tharos paused. “On another topic, how are you holding up?” he asked, placing a hand on Cenric’s shoulder.
“I’m doing fine. Prata said it was OK for me to walk around as long as I don’t overexert myself.”
“That’s good news. You’re quite lucky; not many people I know have survived a lance wound to the stomach,” he said to Cenric, trying to give him a supportive smile while patting him on the shoulder.
“Yes, a lot of people have been saying that,” said Cenric, looking slightly downcast.
“What’s the matter?”
“Well, it’s about the person I killed. His name was Julius, the enemy general.”
“OK, what about him?”
“Is it normal to feel bad about killing someone whose name you knew? I mean, I’ve killed other people before and, while I didn’t enjoy it, they didn’t make much of an impression on me. Why is it this Julius who sticks in my mind?”
Tharos put his goblet of wine down and took a deep breath. “It’s because you still have a heart, Cenric, and it’s one of your most precious passions. I hope you don’t lose it…” He was about to continue when Cenric interrupted him.
“You didn’t really answer my question,” Cenric said, looking at him.
“That is because you didn’t let me finish.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Cenric said sheepishly
“You see…” Tharos gestured to his sword. “Sometimes, to defeat your enemy, you don’t need a sword.” He then tapped his forehead. “Or your wits. sometimes, you can defeat your enemy with this,” he said, tapping his breastplate and gesturing to his heart. “To battle your enemies, you must understand them: their wants, their desires and their fears. When you truly understand them, they stop being your enemies and become people like you. You feel guilty because, for the first time, your enemy was not just an enemy; your enemy was a person like you.”
“I see. I think I am starting to understand,” replied Cenric.
“However, understand this: there may be times when you have to kill people you know, including those you once called friends.”
“Have you ever fought against your friends before?” Cenric asked him.
“Not that I can recall. I can only remember a few details; the rest is all darkness.”
“Well, I hope that never happens,” said Cenric. “I don’t think I could fight and kill a friend.”
“Well, never say never, Cenric. You never know what you’re truly capable of until you’ve done it. And Fortune is a rather fickle mistress.”
Cenric nodded slightly and asked, “So, what are we going to do once we reach the capital?”
“First, we need to collect our payment from Quintus. Then we need to find somewhere to live.”
“Wait, you’re going to buy a house there?” Cenric asked him, looking surprised.
“Yes, a home for all three of us. It’ll be cheaper than staying in inns in the long term. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a permanent roof over our heads? Unless you’re happy sleeping outside in forests and caves?”
“No, it’s fine. I just haven’t had a place to call home for the last few years. So, it feels a little odd to me to have my own house again.” Cenric said, looking at the ongoing celebration below.
“Well, if the amount of coin we earned from this job is anything to go by, we should be able to find somewhere suitable.”
“There you two are.” A voice interrupted. Both of them turned to see it was Rayber.
“Yes, can’t we enjoy some wine by our lonesome?” He complained sarcastically.
Rayner snorted. “Only reason I am up here is Quintus wants to talk to all of us.”
“About what?” He asked.
“Don’t know. I don’t care; I’m just the messenger.”
Tharos then turned to Cenric. “We will have to continue this conversation. Later.” He got up and tossed the wine bottle and goblet he had been using over the battlements. He gestured Cenric to follow him, and Rayner followed him down the stairs while saying. “Let’s not keep him waiting,” he said, overlooking the celebration below, and as they then three of them would descend the stairs. Forever moving forward towards more adventures and battles, ones that may soon may become their last, not that they would ever know that.
To be continued.
