Chapter V: Subterfuge [1]

THE CLAMOR OF hoofbeats and rallying cries of mounted warriors charging from the vast stretch reverberated dominantly as it neared towards the town gate. Inhaling a deep breath upon the pungent air that reeked of blood, steel and sweat, Velmund leaned his elbow upon the rough surface of a battlement, gazing afar whilst rubbing the tips of his fingers in contemplation. Pivoting around, a quarter of a dozen knights greeted him, right arm rested upon their chest, heads lowered while they kneeled silently. 

"My lord, the enemies have breached the gate," Berwyn declared, his head resurfacing. "The barbarian horde has brought a mage. He was the one that caused the tremor. Enemy cavalry would storm the town in any minute now if not stopped. And our troops are spent and many are wounded, especially among the militia. Give us your orders."

"Raise your heads and stand firm, my brave knights," Velmund replied, drawing his grimoire from his cloak. "Listen well. Captain Berwyn, we have a limited stock of recovery potions stored in one of our supply wagons. You can find the wagon at the lord mayor's manor. Fetch them for me then distribute them among those who are gravely injured. As for you Captain Barone, I need you to round up our men. Muster all the troops towards the wall; leave not a single soul beneath."

"And the breach, my lord?" Barone asked, gesturing his palm forward incredulously. Donning his plumed helm and enclosing its visor to hide his countenance, sweat trickled upon his frowned brows as thoughts of disagreement swirled his mind, and yet he avoided explicit implications be drawn out of his lips, lest he convey disdain towards his lord.

"Let them pass, Captain Barone," was the simple reply given to the knight by his sworn liege. "Our troops cannot hold."

"Pardon my insolence, my lord," he said, gulping nervously at the words uttered by his master. "But allowing them passage so easily would mea–"

"Harbor no doubt upon the judgement of our liege," Frenda uttered in a slightly stern tone, yet tenderness can be found in her voice. "His lordship has yet to tell you this, but he has another plan in store for our enemies aside of that out in the walls lying in secret."

"I concur with Lady Frenda," Berwyn interposed, resting his gauntleted hand upon the knight at his pauldron. "I may not know it myself, Barone, but trust me. I reckon that it is something ingenious that will seal our victory. I cannot seem to recall any of Lord Velmund's stratagem failing in any of our many mock battles, would you not agree, eh?"

"Aye, aye, I see what you mean," Barone laughed, returning to his blissful demeanor. "Even an adept gambler such as myself cannot hope to best his lordship's wits at Noblesse. I sure did lose a pouchful of silver coins upon those loss wagers. But on a serious note, I'd like to apologize for my hesitancy, my lord. I would also like to point out that this is unlike any of our mock battles." Barone bowed his head once again, this time solemnly chastising himself for harboring doubts. "Yet despite that, know that my loyalty to you hasn't diminished at all and shall remain as long as I live."

"Your words do flatter me," Velmund answered. "You are forgiven, Captain Barone. Pray continue to rely by your own judgement and defy me if you must, punish you I shall not. After all, fealty without discernment is nothing more than blind allegiance. Humans have free will and ability to wisely judge, and I ever yearn such for a Raven Knight and any of my retainers."

"Much obliged," Barone announced, turning to Berwyn and offering him a grin. "As to recompense, I shall slay a hundred foes upon your name, my lord."

"Then I shall have my kill count twofold of yours," Berwyn said, returning an amiable smirk.

Velmund knew the camaraderie the two knight captains shared; the decades they had spent together as fellow sellswords of an acclaimed mercenary company called the 'Lost Oath Brethren,' and their years of childhood growing in a backwater village. Before the Raven's Selection was held and their subsequent entrée to the chivalric order, Berwyn and Barone were always invited by the Duke at the keep to train castle guards and even the young heirs of House Walruse because of the ties between the leader of the company and the Duke of Regalia and the latter's continued patronage. Even at the time when Berwyn and Barone were yet to be promoted as minor knights, Velmund had respected and treated them as mentors and friends despite the two of them being originally low-born peasants. Although, the same can be said with the rest of the Raven Knights, an order bound by merit and not by hereditary status. Reminiscing at the hitherto which held memories of the past, the young lord looked vacantly as the knights paced zealously to discharge their liege's behest, one headed at the local lord's manor and the other at the gate. Velmund was left in the company of one other knight, one who was most faithful of all to him.

"Pray tell, what do you make of this scene unfolding before us, Frenda?" he asked nonchalantly, gesturing his first knight to come near him.

Frenda advanced to his side, doffing her helm to stare at the grounds of the outer part of the town, where the rhythm of metal pounding against metal sounded defiantly as the battle raged on. "What I see before my eyes is chaos, m'lord," Frenda started. "The ugliness of mankind, as you have told me some time ago.

'The nature of men to be corruptible; to be oppressive of others and impose dominance.' The barbarians are claiming the rights to a land that rightfully belongs to ours. At least that is the way I see the tribesmen are doing in my own perspective."

"And do you blame Norsmund for this war?"

"Indeed, I do. Whatever causes distress to you is a burden for me as well. And I shall do the utmost of my capabilities to aid you end this mess."

"I do appreciate your pledge of aiding me. However, I would not necessarily label the tribesmen at fault in this feud. I believe that we are equally to blame as they are."

"Forgive my ignorance, but I cannot seem to understand," asked her without the slightest hint of indifference. "Would you care to explain?"

"Runtallia and Norsmund are entirely separate entities, and both of these countries have their own set of rules to follow, ideals and principles to believe, deities to worship, and numerous things that set them apart from one another. And yet despite the differences between our race and those we deemed as 'barbarians,' ironically, we have a commonality that can be traced to the very thing where our differences rooted: our flaws as human beings. You see, compared to other creatures of nature like animals and Ill-spawns that solely act on instinct, we humans have inherited intelligence from the gods that created us upon the dawn of time, and for the past millennia littered the world with millions of our kind as we evolve and procreate our offspring. As we use this gift from the supreme ones, we were able to survive this world despite the many challenges our kind has encountered. We built small communities at first, a town, then a city that will eventually turn into a massive collection of bigger settlements; a nation. Through this course, the intelligence we have had started to cause the feeling of being superior above all other races, thus we distinguish ourselves above those other beings that set foot on the same lands we reside. And as we became more conscious of ourselves because of our intellect, something is born within our hearts that enslaves and drives us into action. Our primordial instincts have now evolved upon something more complex, and the exact flaw that is common to you, myself and the rest of humanity. It is something that inspires evil and good deeds alike. A flaw that makes humans corruptible indeed. Would you care to delight me for a guess with this riddle of mine, Frenda?"

"The sole purpose of my life is to serve you and you alone, m'lord. And yet without the will, earnestness and resolve of mine to be of service to you, that solemn duty cannot be fulfilled. If I were to fathom what you have said just now, I would surmise that the driving force behind human action is the desire within them."

"Precisely. What drives a man to commit theft or murder? Is it not his desire to survive, garner riches, live in luxury, and other worldly dreams he yearns for? These desires lead to the misery of others, a thing we label as sin or crime. And yet, desires can also lead to fruitful endeavors that may save the lives of innocent people. Take the almoner priests of Lamellia who are renowned for their generosity and kindness. I myself have witnessed them distributing food and gold in the slums of our great city. They had little funds compared to other sects of the Faith of the Holy Triumvirate that demand excessive tithes, and yet they share even the scraps of food they have because of their desire for the betterment of their neighbors. However, despite any noble or twisted cause, desire is still desire. Good and evil are two sides of the same coin, and we often neglect to see the fundamentals of what is right and what is wrong to suit our wants and needs, seeing the wrong to be right and the right to be wrong. So, what do you suppose is the significance of what I told you just now at the horrid battle appearing before our us?"

"I think I get what you mean, but if I may be so bold, may you overlook my impertinence if I speak behind the back of His Grace the Duke?"

"You may do so at your own volition," Velmund assured her.

"If I am not mistaken, the source of this feud was the disputed land of Kurlon, located between Runtallia and Norsmund. According to one of your father's liegemen whom discovered the land, the thing that made Kurlon invaluable in the first place was its rich pool of mined resources, so I am inclined to believe that it is within the Duke's interest to possess the said territory to improve our economy, and even if the Duke acted because of the allure of riches, which I do not think is plausible based on his righteous character so I hope your lordship would forgive me for offending him, it is undeniably true that the mines will still pave way to the Duchy's prosperity. On the other hand, Norsmund might have been misled to believe that we were planning an invasion, and thus lay claim upon the land themselves to ensure we gain no foothold in their domain. And so, the desires of both Duke Gaverone and Chief-thane Dariun have clashed and led to this… upheaval, if I am to put it. Would that be the same as to what you think, m'lord?"

"Indeed. However, neither my father nor the chief-thane owns the rights for the said territory, and so no one is truly right in this conflict in a moral sense. But what are morals and laws if not be for the one who reigns supreme? And history if not for the narration of the victorious? If my memory serves me right, according to the tomes that recorded the reign of the Old Empire, which the true name is unbeknownst to all, the same as its counterpart and nemesis, the Ancient Empire, Kurlon used to shelter a demonic beast known as the 'carmine hellhound,' said to be a familiar of an unnamed demon lord. As you know, before the Nether Realm was sealed by the Supreme Deities at the end of the Thousand Years' War, Ill-spawns like the carmine hellhound roamed the material plane freely, and ordinary humans are powerless against such creatures, thus, areas where demonic beasts are said to reside remained untouched, and until they are slain entry is forbidden. After centuries have passed and nation-states began to develop after both the Ancient Empire and Old Empire collapsed, these locations came to be acknowledged as neutral lands and so no country dares to own them, lest they incur the wrath of the neutral land's guardian. Albeit there is no record of the hellhound being killed in the past, the Standing Army has yet to report a demonic beast being spotted since Kurlon was conquered. However…"

Velmund let out a sigh before continuing, "In spite of the truth regarding the collision of the desires from my father and the chief-thane you spoke of, I am afraid that there is a bigger ploy behind all this than meets the eye. And not even the leaders of both sides are aware of it."

"Do you mean…" Frenda said, her voice trailing off upon arriving at a vague conclusion. The ambiguous statement left her perplexed, yet from the way Velmund phrased the remark made her judgement unequivocal about its sinister nature.

Suddenly, before Velmund could manage a response to Frenda, three soldiers in mail armor strenuously paced towards them. Both Velmund and Frenda were thunderstruck at the soldiers' appearance as the two of them resurfaced from their undisturbed discussion that almost canceled out the clamor of battle. The men-at-arms lay down their polearms and kneeled before Velmund, clenched fists placed upon their torso. "I bear news, milord," the man in the center announced. "The barbarian vanguard has reached the town square according to scout report, while a separate group is trying to hold off our troops from below the walls.

Additionally, Dame Reona Rumbline of the Raven Knights has informed us that she is currently in position in accordance to your lordship's order."