Chapter VIII: Slavery [1]

THE SQUEAKS AND cries of smitten greenskins echoed throughout the forest glade, disrupting the chirping birds which had flown elsewhere to seek safer refuge, away from where three retainer knights in inky cape and armor were engaged upon the said monstrous creatures a dozen or so in numbers. Despite their numerical advantage, however, the goblins were outmatched with their puny physique and crude weaponry, faced against well-trained knights in full plate armor. The cold cadavers of their fallen kinsmen that lay cold upon the turf served as a strong deterrent for the remaining goblins, who were bitterly swearing upon their guttural and intangible tongue.

"I will try to draw them in to the center," Reona shouted a few meters behind from her companions as she nocked an arrow, and moments later let loose of a ferocious missile that found its sharp tip embedded inside the eye socket of one of the hunted goblins. "Anselmus, William, get on their flanks, now!"

"Who decides you can lord us around?!" William yelled back, slowly pacing forward towards the right flank of the clustered goblins despite his protest. "I am a noble, just so you know, wench!"

"Am I hearing complaints, you eighth seat buffoon?" Reona mockingly replied, cupping her right hand upon her ear exaggeratedly. "Neither hereditary status nor your noble antics matter in the Order, so stop your tantrums and get on with killing these greenskins. And try calling me a wench again, and you've got worse coming compared than last time."

"Your seventh rank mean nothing, and your victory last time was a fluke! And you would also refer to me as Sir or Lord Relmfrey."

"You mean the beating? Not much of a duel if you ask me."

"Who uses a bow in a duel?"

"You had a full set of armor and a shield. Do I need to mention the horse, too? And you were pitted against a woman in a kirtle dress. You literally ambushed me when I just woke up, you pathetic excuse for a knight!"

"Damn it, you're the worst! You can hardly be called a woman!" William bawled between a slash and a block from his shield. While exchanging insults with Reona, he was hacking his way to decimate the enemy's right flank, killing four goblins with ease as if slicing butter with knife.

Amidst the deafening discourse between Reona and William, the latter's counterpart on the goblins' left flank, sixth seat upon the Order of the Raven Knights, Sir Anselmus Guddard, met his foes with vicious blows in succession from his mace. With his sinewy build he towered about seven and a half feet tall, and each large strike he delivered had produced two more corpses. Not long after, arrows from Reona had driven the goblins into a single corner, and soon her companions made a quick work out of them, finishing the slaughter.

"That was quick," Reona said, approaching the pair from behind. "Let's report back to Lord Velmund. We are still on a march and better not slack off."

"Again with the orders," William answered back in an irritated tone. "If anyone had the right to command me, it should be Brother Anselmus here at least. And I would take no orders from a woman!"

"You do know our commander is also a woman, right?"

"Lady Ferndale is an exception."

"You're just afraid of her, aren't you?"

"Who isn't? Practically one of the few things we agree about is not incurring the wrath of the Knight Reaper. Regardless, you're still the worst!"

"No, I'm not. At least I don't tease you about your dirt. And you know who's done that every single time for everyone in the whole Order."

"I get it," he said as of remembering a bitter memory. "The Ferndale siblings are terrifying."

"At least Mana has a good sense of humor though. But enough of that, let's head back. Anselmus, you coming?"

Both Reona and William turned to see the man, who was preoccupied upon staring at rows of trees in the direction of the road, as if on a trance. After several seconds of silence, Anselmus simply uttered a brief reply, "Road. Ahead. People."

"Pardon?" Reona asked, tilting her head in ignorance

"I see," William said, nodding. "We should check the road ahead, Reona. It seems that Anselmus detected someone approaching."

"Oh, really now? I swear, the only thing you're useful at is translating Anselmus's thoughts into words."

Deciding to ignore her disparaging, William unknotted his horse from the trunk of a tree where it was bound and mounted to the saddle, strapping his shield and returning his sword to its scabbard fastened upon his fauld. Rolling her eyes with an innuendo of disappointment out of her unsuccessful provocation, Reona offered a mischievous grin towards William in another attempt as she climbed her horse, which earned an exhausted sigh from the latter. After exiting the clearing, the three knights trotted for no more than a couple of minutes and soon after, emerged from the woods towards the road in the form of a narrow pavement wide enough for a single wagon to travel through. Despite being a major trading hub, the road to Flendle was in poor condition and almost neglected for the past decades, as trade were usually conducted by merchant vessels such as barges and cogs by the River Dalewood, the largest river in the eastern lands.

"How many are there?" William queried, gazing in the horizon.

"Soldiers. Six. Horses," Anselmus replied in a deep voice.

"Do we wait for them or meet them?" William asked, exchanging looks from his companions.

"Why don't we ask him?" Reona replied, pointing ahead of the road.

As William squinted over the road ahead, he realized what Reona meant. In the distance was a single rider fast approaching them, and at a closer look, he was garb in a torn, bloody tunic and tattered pants. The non-leisurely galloping pace and the tinge of red from the man's clothes were enough indicators to alarm the knights, who instinctively drawn and gripped their weapons tight.

"I thought there were supposed to be six?" Reona remarked in a jest, clutching her bow.

"Hail, milords, milady!" greeted the rider as he slowed down, arm raised upon the air to indicate a friendly gesture, eliminating the prospect of hostile actions. "Goddess Lamellia be praised, at last I found you good sirs."

"The goddess be with you," William replied. "Pray tell, from whence do you hail from?"

"I am a soldier of Regalia, milord. I bear news about the city in the bidding of your brethren, Sir Night Owl of the Raven Knights, and a letter to his lordship, your liege, from the commander of the city's garrison. But before I deliver them both, I ask of you to aid me on my peril."

"What peril?" Reona questioned, gesturing for the blood in the man's clothes. "Bandits? Goblins?"

"Neither. I am chased by men of the traitorous lord, the Marquis of Ruggleford."

"What?!" William interjected. "We need some kind of context, be specific, soldier."

"R-Regalia… the city is currently b-besieged," the messenger stuttered. "A large army has appeared before the city a week ago."

"A week ago?!" Reona scowled, frowning. "It takes three days to travel towards Flendle from the city, and we're already half way through. Why haven't we received reports yet?"

"As I mentioned, milady, I am chased by pursuers, hence the delay. The rebels have placed men to guard every road leading to the city. I was ambushed a few times myself. I would ask for your forgiveness, but my life was at stake the moment I stepped out of the city gates."

"Is that your pursuers who are after you, then?"

Five men accoutered in mail armor, iron helm, and dull purple padded tunic rode in horseback a hundred meters away, who came to an immediate halt once the sight of three black-armored knights greeted them, but rode again slowly to close the distance once they spotted the person of their interest. Noticing the drawn weapons from the knights, a man proceeded at the fore of the group to address the Raven Knights. "Sir Knight, we come in peace!" the man cried. "Please, lower your weapons. We are on the employ of the Marquis. We are chasing a brigand who stole from the lands of our lord. We ask of you to hand him over."

"It seems that there are six of them, after all," Reona whispered. "William, go talk with them. I don't have patience for this farce, otherwise I'll just shoot them down myself. Your choice."

William nodded.

"Tell me at once, how did Rugglefordian soldiers stray this deep within the Duke's territory?" William sharply asked in a threatening tone against his interlocutor.

The newly arrived group were mere dozen paces away, and most of them kept a chary look, seemingly cautious upon not letting their guard down at the possibility of an armed conflict. "So far here in the south is far too questionable and suspicious, I would ask you to explain yourselves."

"W-We were commissioned by t-the Marquis to retrieve an item from that man."

"That does not answer my question. As far as the Duke is concerned, your lord has no jurisdiction over Regalia. No armed forces are allowed in the Duchy without the permission of the Duke or the accompaniment of Regalian troops. Your lord should have sent an emissary, not soldiers. Unless the said permission is unfounded."

"N-No, we… erm… we were granted permission to c-cross Regalia by the general of the Regalian Standing Army, Lord Balmeister. We have documents and his seal."

"Lay down your weapons at once. We can talk after then. I won't repeat myself!"

"You misunderstood, I–"

All of a sudden, the soldier from Ruggleford jerked backwards, and was shushed by a dagger to his head, hurled by the bloodied messenger who cried the words, "Die, rebel scum!"

The man's companions were taken aback, and seeing the lifeless body fell from the horse, were instigated to unsheathe their blades and prepare to an impromptu combat. However, moments before they had successfully done so, gore splashed out from the throats of two other soldiers, producing twain carcasses on the ground who perished from the arrows of Reona's longbow, who managed to nock and loose two arrows at the same instant. "I hate liars," she mouthed.

"I would go against my words and repeat: lay down your weapons at once," was the ultimatum given by William.

The remaining Rugglefordians were dumbstruck with terror that they immediately dislodged themselves from their mounts. After trading looks with one another, the soldiers begrudgingly dropped their weapons with a clang on the ground, and raised their hands to indicate an unvoiced surrender.

"Now that's done, apprehend those two and we let Lord Velmund to decide their fate," Reona said to both Anselmus and William, who as if on cue, headed towards the terrified soldiers.