Post by Mysti on Jul 8, 2007 8:08:04 GMT -5
The Adventures of An Urchin - Part 1
Beginnings
-Chapter 1- The Attack on the Castle
The shouting and sharp cries of excitement, the moans and collective sighs of disappointment all reminded me of the first time I ever attended a 'Maitei'. People were gathered all around and the trumpets kept on sounding. Loud on the stage the fighters and their compatriots clashed in combat while maidens threw flowers to honor the dead. The stalls sold candy, ice, and sweet things. I had no money to buy them and the smell was so enticing. Then soldiers came to stop the fighting. It was against the laws of the Prince, and the onlookers fled
Pushing the combatants aside and slapping them with the flat edges of their swords, the soldiers finally reached, and took, the head of the fighters - fortunately he was half drunk - and chained him hand and foot with cuffs. Two soldiers on either side dragged him off through the dusty, now deserted, streets to face trial and punishment.
Idly, I followed as they pulled him along, the burly soldiers on either side ready to give him their fists if he struggled or held back. They approached the Citadel of the King on its high hill overlooking the town and the bay. The castle was open to all to enter that day for it was the execution day of a notorious traitor. He was to be hanged and gutted. People were arriving early to get a good view. I had nothing better to do. I scrambled up the narrow rough cut stone steps to one of the ramparts. The crush was fearsome and I was small. I got caught up in the crowds and gradually pushed to the stone wall. Now I would see nothing. Disconsolate I turned around a little and saw that I could peer through one of the slits in the wall. This side of the castle overlooked the harbour. The wall of the castle was built at the edge of a sheer wall of rock. Instead of looking at the execution, I now had the chance to look at the life of the city from a new and unaccustomed vantage point. As the ceremony progressed, I could hear the shouts and jeers of the audience. I looked out to sea though. I had lost interest in the proceedings which I could not see.
The harbour seemed busier than usual for a lazy hot afternoon. I saw many ships approaching suddenly at great speed. Red sails. Some were bristling with soldiers. Some carried what looked like war machines. They were low in the water and the rowers were working very hard to move them through the water. As the nearer ships approached I saw more appear over the horizon. Only when I saw he first fire arrows falling to the harbour did I realise that the city was under attack. I saw the first red ship land and its occupants spill out onto the harbour to be met by harbour guards. Behind them archers fired yet more arrows which set the thatch blazing on the houses around the quayside. Very faintly, as though from a great distance I heard cries and shrieks and saw people fall under the blades of the attackers. I began to try to push through the crowd to do something. I don't know what. I looked up to the watchtowers, but the guards to a man were looking into the courtyard instead of out at sea as was their duty. Some of them passed jugs of wine to each other. They looked a bit unsteady. Some of them were even lying with their backs against the wall as though taking a rest. Something was wrong. I shouted, but my voice was lost through the noise of the crowd. The man I was pushing turned around and snarled as he cuffed me across the top of the head. "Watch yerself, brat!" He snarled unpleasantly. His face was red and he stank of wine. I was helpless. Suddenly the drums rolled. I knew that the moment of execution had arrived. Now was my chance. I knew that when the drums stopped rolling there would be a moment of silence before the execution was carried out. I waited. The drum roll stopped. I yelled at the top of my voice,
"Attackers in the harbour! Beware! Attackers!"
I heard the creak of wood as the traitor's body dangled. I looked up again with despair at the watchtowers. One guard was slowly turning to look at the sea. I saw his head jerk around. Briefly he looked at me. Then he reached out his arm and suddenly the loud clanging of the alarm bell broke out. Immediately people started scattering. Guards started appearing from doors all around the courtyard.
Commanders furiously barked out orders. I glanced over at the gallows and was surprised to see that the traitor had not been hanged after all. I saw him amidst a group of guards. They were hurrying him away to a door, presumably leading back to the dungeons. Just as he entered the low doorway I saw him briefly look around and then up at the battlement where I stood, now in plain view. I could swear I saw a smile cross his face. Then soldiers were running backwards and forwards and winching the heavy machinery to bring our weapons to bear on the attacking fleet and on the first of the attackers who had started to scale the cliffs to the castle.
Now that the catwalk was clear I could go to the battlements and look down. Below, there climbed many men, their eyes on the upper walls, their teeth clenching knives, intent on conquering this castle.
It was a terrifying sight. What could I, just a small boy, do? Nothing of course, I was powerless against this. The thought crossed my mind that I would not see this day through.
The Sea Raider's plot was indeed cunning, because as I looked towards the central courtyard, through the dungeon door I saw streams of attacking men pour forth from the dungeon with blood on their lips and eyes wildly staring. The attack on the walls had been a ploy designed to draw the defenders away from the courtyard.
The townsfolk had presumably fled to cower in their homes and under barrels in cellars below. They would be quaking with dread, for they knew well no mercy would be given to any found and only death would fall swiftly by the axe's blow.
Cutting through the soldiers, the attackers quickly took the courtyard, but now became prey to arrows rained down on them from above. But disciplined were these warriors, and cunning too. Soon they made a shield to hide beneath as they ran across to the stairs. Soon they were too close for arrows and the clang of sword and axe and curdling shriek and death cry pierced the bloody air.
Soon they were on the catwalk, coming ever closer to me. I know they would slay me without a thought. My body would rot on these castle walls.
Now I saw the traitor appear on the battlements. Bold and daring, he too was swinging a mighty blade.
Perhaps if I had not shouted, the leader would now be a swinging corpse
The leader was looking around for something. His eyes scanned the battlements, and came to rest on me. Again he grinned at me. He shouted something to his soldiers and pointed to me. Immediately five burly soldiers broke away from the melee and headed towards me. I was terrified and shaking now.
I had heard the savage tales of gutted headless bodies left in stinking smoldering ruins of towns. I had no desire to be the test of truth of this rumour. But there was only one escape. A dive over the battlements down the cliffs to become a mangled ragged corpse on the rocks below.
I was wild now. Not thinking. Butu then a calmness came over me such as I had never felt before. A small voice started to speak to me. "Freedom is better at the last than death at hands of vicious brutes. Jump over the battlements. It will be alright. You will see!" Still in my calmness, although totally terrified, I felt my legs walk over to the battlements and prepare me in an instant for my final glorious leap. I leaped just as they reached me.
But these men were faster than they seemed - and fearless. One jumped to catch my feet as they disappear over the top. Grunting with the strain he grabs me by the ankles. The sudden halt caused my head to bang against the stone, and before they pulled me back up I was unconscious, blood pouring from a gash on the side of my head.
When I awoke it was night. As I tried to rise, the ground moved up and hit me. Except this ground was not the stone of the castle walls but wood which creaked and groanede as it rose and fell. An overwhelming scent of seawater invaded my lungs. Groggy and stomach heaving at the same time, I vomited and collapsed in it.
-Chapter 2- The Destruction of the Town
When I woke up again I found happily that I was not lying in my vomit any more. Somebody had kindly propped me up against a pile of ropes on the deck. I could still smell the stink of sour vomit but I felt much better.
A man who I recognised as the leader, whose life I had unwittingly saved at the castle noticed me stirring and came over to me.
"Ah, so finally you awake!"
He shouted an order and a cup of water was thrust into my hand. I drank thirstily finishing the cup quickly. It was refilled and passed back to me. I drank again.
The leader regarded me.
"I have spared your life for two reasons. One is that you helped me to escape death by hanging by shouting out about the attack. I was beginning to worry that no-one would notice it with the guards being so drunk!"
He paused for a moment
"The other though is far more important. At first I meant merely to spare your life, but then you chose death rather than capture."
He looked narrowly at me.
"That is not something which most would do, let alone small boys such as yourself.
All the others are dead, you know" he says.
I tried to stand up and I staggered and almost fell. Two of the men who had caught me when I jumped grabbed my arms and helped me up, not unkindly.
"Show him," Said the leader.
They took me to the stern of the boat. We were laying to just outside the harbour
the town was in flames. I heard faint screams carried on the wind. Once or twice I saw figures briefly appear from out of the smoke to be cut down by pursuing soldiers
"Watch!"
Said the leader
"Look at the Castle, boy."
I looked
Suddenly there was a huge explosion. Red light flashed. Black smoke billowed from the blazing ruins. The place where the castle had been was enveloped.
Now groups of attackers started to appear and boarded boats at the quay. The boats put out to sea.
Within a short time the entire fleet lay outside the walls of the harbour. I saw a green light flare up into the sky. It was a signal. Catapults on the leading ships twanged sending huge gobs of fire towards the already blazing town. As they hit the quay and the town beyond, they exploded.
For three hours we lay outside the harbour. For three hours the town blazed sending a pall of choking smoke into the sky, so that when the sun rose it was scarcely visible through the clouds of smoke. It began to rain, a fine drizzle at first but then a deluge. The decks of the ships became treacherous to navigate as water made them slippery. Still the leader looked out over the stern of his ship, not caring about, or maybe not even noticing the discomfort of wet clothes or the rolling of the ship.
I was the only one standing next to him now so only I heard his words.
"And so brother, farewell!"
He looked at me. There was something unreadable in his eyes. Perhaps it was a smile, perhaps a scowl. I knew not why, but my heart leapt when he said,
"And now boy what shall we make of you?
"A fighter I think."
He appeared to think for a moment, and cocked his head, as though listening to a voice next to his ear.
"Aye, a soldier it shall be then"
He rubbed his chin in thought.
"Aye, a fighter, but there is something in you more than that, and this we shall also train"
He barked an order.
The two soldiers came.
"Take him and train him."
"Come lad" the one who had grabbed my ankles at the castle said gruffly.
"Let's see what we can do with ye then."
I glanced at the leader, but he turned away to regard the shore again
That was the last I saw of him for many years.
-Chapter 3- Rysapp and the Sword
Rysapp was a master of arms, a wily creature was he. He was trained in many arts of war. He had a soft side though, and a fondness for wine. I never knew his true name. Rysapp meant "the fox of the sewers" in some tongue or other. He never seemed to mind though. He had come from the dirt, and was never afraid to acknowledge it.
The nobles and princes whose sons he trained would have thought twice before looking down on him for his lowly origins, and would have shuddered at the consequences of physically abusing him in any way at all. He had the respect of all, well tempered with fear, and would have it no other way.
I see his face now as I remembered it when I was placed in his care as a lad of 12. He was grey haired. I never remember him as anything else even though he was not old. He had a pointed chin. Lines that spoke equally of laughter and kindness as they did of fear and cruelty. His nose a huge blade that cut his face, though none would dare to joke at its size. Rumours abounded that one jest about that nose might leave you with none of your own.
But I never saw the truth of such tales, perhaps because I was too busy cleaning his house and his weapons, and doing the exercises he gave me. And I worked hard to please him, even though I received many a cuff for a lesson badly learned. Aye, those were indeed times of beginning.
The hard lessons that Rysapp gave served me well. But I was still urchin enough to know that it is never realistic to get too comfortable in one place. In my experience something always happened whether through fault of my own or other causes.
For two years I had studied with Rysapp. My body was beginning to acquire hard muscles.
I filled out, for Rysapp was never stingy with food, but I didn't get fat, for Rysapp also was never stingy about the amount of gruelling exercises and jobs he gave me either.
It was in the third year that the change occurred. The change that would set my feet along the path that brought me to places so wonderful and strange that none could ever even dream of them.
It was a hot summer afternoon and I was usual was working, practicing my training exercises in Rysapp's courtyard. I had learned standard swordplay long before and my skills had appeared to satisfy Rysapp for one day he took me saide from the other boys and placed a new sword in my hand.
"It is a sword from the east." He told me, making me note the slightly curved blade and the fact that it was sharpened only on one edge but with a razorlike finish. The metal of the sword was a smoky blue, and near the hilt, which had but a slightly raised handguard, there were flowing characters inscribed. Rysapp pointed them out to me.
"That is the name of the sword. Its spirit. Only the owner of the sword knows its name and the sword is loyal only to that owner. It will bring woe to others who try to use it. This sword is linked only to one. The man who knows its name, and calls it."
I held the sword lightly. It had wonderful balance and was light compared to the swords I had used before. I tried a light practice swing. The sword silently swished through the air. Rysapp started to speak again but I was only half listening to him. My mind was on the sword. I decided to try a series of exercises I had learned to compare the feel of this sword with the sword I usually carried.
I emptied my mind as I had been taught and went into the series. Today it seemed very easy. I felt as though I was floating like a cloud, the weight of my body was inconsequential. A strange power flowed through me. I seemed invincible. Now I was clad in strange intricately patterned silks. In one hand I held the sword and in the other the reins of a long thin undulating dragon soaring above the field of an awful battle. My sword arm worked as I swooped over the heads of the battling soldiers below and crimson ruin spouted from the bodies of the screaming enemy. The characters on the blade of the sword glowed and pulsated red and green. I felt wonderfully one with my steed and my sword. As I looked at the glowing sword, its name seemed to leap out at me and burn into my head. Abruptly I was back in the courtyard. I was totally unprepared for what happened next. The sword seemed to leap to life a split second before I intended and swung around to slice down on Rysapp. I was lucky that Rysapp was who he was for the blade sliced down on empty air with a hiss that almost sounded like disappointment.
I dropped that sword. It fell with a dull thud and lay in the dust of the courtyard. Its blade seemed to absorb the sun and it gave no glint of reflection.
Now Rysapp came and picked up the sword. I noticed that he did not hold it as he would if he intended to fight with it. Rather he cradled it in his arms. Quickly he wrapped it and returned it to its box. Only when it was back in its box did I suddenly have a wreneching sense, which felt absurdly as though I had been somewhere else, and had only just returned to my body. I felt cold.
"As always, the sword seeks its rightful owner and tries to bring woe to those who would steal it." Said Rysapp wistfully.
"Many years ago, this sword came into my hands as a spoil of war. I did not win it through battle, it was in the armoury of a castle far to the east, on the borders of the Mysterious Lands. Of all the weapons there, I chose only this one as my reward."
"Then you know its name?"
Rysapp looked at me. "No, I do not know it. I cannot use this sword. It has caused me great trouble. It would kill me if it could. I seek only to return it to its owner, for it is a vicous sword in other hands. Thus I let all of my apprentices hold it just once so that the sword may, if it chooses, find its rightful owner."
"However, I have had a practice blade of the same dimensions made, though it is not sharpened"
Rysapp eyed me.
"You moved differently when you held that sword. Where did you learn that style?"
I began to sweat.
"I don't know Master Rysapp. It was as though the sword was part of me, leading me, teaching me."
I stopped, embarrassed. It sounded stupid. A sword was a piece of metal with no mind of its own except the which its owner used it.
"And did the sword tell you its name?"
Rysapp's manner was deceptively mild. There was something hidden behind it I could sense. An intent was there. I caught a glimpse of something behind his eyes, a thought...
I jerked myself awake. Had I been asleep? My mind was wandering. What was I doing seeing thoughts? Was I ill? I shook myself. I began to feel dizzy and weak.
"No Master Rysapp. I saw only pictures..." I stopped again. "I mean Master Rysapp, I must have been dreaming or something."
I was sweating profusely now, and my legs seemed to have no muscles in them to hold me up.
"Hmmmmmmm." Rysapp closed his eyes a moment. He looked at me and came to a quick decision.
"I think you have been in the sun too long this afternoon. Go inside now. And you seem to be feverish. See the apothecary. In the meantime, do not touch weapons of any kind until I tell you that you are well enough. You may cause yourself injury." He looked at me narrowly. "Or others." He added drily.
I didn't hear what other words he said, for I had collapsed.
-Part 4- Discoveries
It was a long time before Rysapp allowed me to rise, and even longer before I was allowed near a sword again. I spent the long and lazy days of my recovery in other pursuits. One of these was exploring Rysapp's extensive house. Except for family rooms and Rysapp's private study, I was free to go where I would, and as, for once in my life, I had no other duties, I began to explore. There was plenty to find. I soon found the blacksmith's and spent one afternoon watching them shape iron and other metals into a variety of implements and weapons.
As the end of the day approached, Jarg, the head of the blacksmiths, finished up his other work and came over to me.
"Whoa Daal. No work today!" He boomed with a smile in his northern accent, extending all the 'a' sounds as they did there. Like all the others he had heard of my episode in the courtyard and no doubt wondered what was afoot.
"Would you like to see the sword I've been working on for Rysapp?" He said, knowing of course, my answer.
He went over to a chest in the corner of the room and brought out a package wrapped in grey sackcloth. As he undid the tyings, I could see another wrapping below, this time of the richest blue silk. As he worked on the fastenings, Jarg looked up.
"They say you are the owner of the sword that Rysapp won on his campaign." He said quietly.
He waited, obviously expecting me to answer.
I could think of no good reply. The sword had unsettled me with its strange visions. I wanted none of its strange sorcery in my life, just a reliable blade - one which would serve me rather than make me its servant to kill who it would.
Beginnings
-Chapter 1- The Attack on the Castle
The shouting and sharp cries of excitement, the moans and collective sighs of disappointment all reminded me of the first time I ever attended a 'Maitei'. People were gathered all around and the trumpets kept on sounding. Loud on the stage the fighters and their compatriots clashed in combat while maidens threw flowers to honor the dead. The stalls sold candy, ice, and sweet things. I had no money to buy them and the smell was so enticing. Then soldiers came to stop the fighting. It was against the laws of the Prince, and the onlookers fled
Pushing the combatants aside and slapping them with the flat edges of their swords, the soldiers finally reached, and took, the head of the fighters - fortunately he was half drunk - and chained him hand and foot with cuffs. Two soldiers on either side dragged him off through the dusty, now deserted, streets to face trial and punishment.
Idly, I followed as they pulled him along, the burly soldiers on either side ready to give him their fists if he struggled or held back. They approached the Citadel of the King on its high hill overlooking the town and the bay. The castle was open to all to enter that day for it was the execution day of a notorious traitor. He was to be hanged and gutted. People were arriving early to get a good view. I had nothing better to do. I scrambled up the narrow rough cut stone steps to one of the ramparts. The crush was fearsome and I was small. I got caught up in the crowds and gradually pushed to the stone wall. Now I would see nothing. Disconsolate I turned around a little and saw that I could peer through one of the slits in the wall. This side of the castle overlooked the harbour. The wall of the castle was built at the edge of a sheer wall of rock. Instead of looking at the execution, I now had the chance to look at the life of the city from a new and unaccustomed vantage point. As the ceremony progressed, I could hear the shouts and jeers of the audience. I looked out to sea though. I had lost interest in the proceedings which I could not see.
The harbour seemed busier than usual for a lazy hot afternoon. I saw many ships approaching suddenly at great speed. Red sails. Some were bristling with soldiers. Some carried what looked like war machines. They were low in the water and the rowers were working very hard to move them through the water. As the nearer ships approached I saw more appear over the horizon. Only when I saw he first fire arrows falling to the harbour did I realise that the city was under attack. I saw the first red ship land and its occupants spill out onto the harbour to be met by harbour guards. Behind them archers fired yet more arrows which set the thatch blazing on the houses around the quayside. Very faintly, as though from a great distance I heard cries and shrieks and saw people fall under the blades of the attackers. I began to try to push through the crowd to do something. I don't know what. I looked up to the watchtowers, but the guards to a man were looking into the courtyard instead of out at sea as was their duty. Some of them passed jugs of wine to each other. They looked a bit unsteady. Some of them were even lying with their backs against the wall as though taking a rest. Something was wrong. I shouted, but my voice was lost through the noise of the crowd. The man I was pushing turned around and snarled as he cuffed me across the top of the head. "Watch yerself, brat!" He snarled unpleasantly. His face was red and he stank of wine. I was helpless. Suddenly the drums rolled. I knew that the moment of execution had arrived. Now was my chance. I knew that when the drums stopped rolling there would be a moment of silence before the execution was carried out. I waited. The drum roll stopped. I yelled at the top of my voice,
"Attackers in the harbour! Beware! Attackers!"
I heard the creak of wood as the traitor's body dangled. I looked up again with despair at the watchtowers. One guard was slowly turning to look at the sea. I saw his head jerk around. Briefly he looked at me. Then he reached out his arm and suddenly the loud clanging of the alarm bell broke out. Immediately people started scattering. Guards started appearing from doors all around the courtyard.
Commanders furiously barked out orders. I glanced over at the gallows and was surprised to see that the traitor had not been hanged after all. I saw him amidst a group of guards. They were hurrying him away to a door, presumably leading back to the dungeons. Just as he entered the low doorway I saw him briefly look around and then up at the battlement where I stood, now in plain view. I could swear I saw a smile cross his face. Then soldiers were running backwards and forwards and winching the heavy machinery to bring our weapons to bear on the attacking fleet and on the first of the attackers who had started to scale the cliffs to the castle.
Now that the catwalk was clear I could go to the battlements and look down. Below, there climbed many men, their eyes on the upper walls, their teeth clenching knives, intent on conquering this castle.
It was a terrifying sight. What could I, just a small boy, do? Nothing of course, I was powerless against this. The thought crossed my mind that I would not see this day through.
The Sea Raider's plot was indeed cunning, because as I looked towards the central courtyard, through the dungeon door I saw streams of attacking men pour forth from the dungeon with blood on their lips and eyes wildly staring. The attack on the walls had been a ploy designed to draw the defenders away from the courtyard.
The townsfolk had presumably fled to cower in their homes and under barrels in cellars below. They would be quaking with dread, for they knew well no mercy would be given to any found and only death would fall swiftly by the axe's blow.
Cutting through the soldiers, the attackers quickly took the courtyard, but now became prey to arrows rained down on them from above. But disciplined were these warriors, and cunning too. Soon they made a shield to hide beneath as they ran across to the stairs. Soon they were too close for arrows and the clang of sword and axe and curdling shriek and death cry pierced the bloody air.
Soon they were on the catwalk, coming ever closer to me. I know they would slay me without a thought. My body would rot on these castle walls.
Now I saw the traitor appear on the battlements. Bold and daring, he too was swinging a mighty blade.
Perhaps if I had not shouted, the leader would now be a swinging corpse
The leader was looking around for something. His eyes scanned the battlements, and came to rest on me. Again he grinned at me. He shouted something to his soldiers and pointed to me. Immediately five burly soldiers broke away from the melee and headed towards me. I was terrified and shaking now.
I had heard the savage tales of gutted headless bodies left in stinking smoldering ruins of towns. I had no desire to be the test of truth of this rumour. But there was only one escape. A dive over the battlements down the cliffs to become a mangled ragged corpse on the rocks below.
I was wild now. Not thinking. Butu then a calmness came over me such as I had never felt before. A small voice started to speak to me. "Freedom is better at the last than death at hands of vicious brutes. Jump over the battlements. It will be alright. You will see!" Still in my calmness, although totally terrified, I felt my legs walk over to the battlements and prepare me in an instant for my final glorious leap. I leaped just as they reached me.
But these men were faster than they seemed - and fearless. One jumped to catch my feet as they disappear over the top. Grunting with the strain he grabs me by the ankles. The sudden halt caused my head to bang against the stone, and before they pulled me back up I was unconscious, blood pouring from a gash on the side of my head.
When I awoke it was night. As I tried to rise, the ground moved up and hit me. Except this ground was not the stone of the castle walls but wood which creaked and groanede as it rose and fell. An overwhelming scent of seawater invaded my lungs. Groggy and stomach heaving at the same time, I vomited and collapsed in it.
-Chapter 2- The Destruction of the Town
When I woke up again I found happily that I was not lying in my vomit any more. Somebody had kindly propped me up against a pile of ropes on the deck. I could still smell the stink of sour vomit but I felt much better.
A man who I recognised as the leader, whose life I had unwittingly saved at the castle noticed me stirring and came over to me.
"Ah, so finally you awake!"
He shouted an order and a cup of water was thrust into my hand. I drank thirstily finishing the cup quickly. It was refilled and passed back to me. I drank again.
The leader regarded me.
"I have spared your life for two reasons. One is that you helped me to escape death by hanging by shouting out about the attack. I was beginning to worry that no-one would notice it with the guards being so drunk!"
He paused for a moment
"The other though is far more important. At first I meant merely to spare your life, but then you chose death rather than capture."
He looked narrowly at me.
"That is not something which most would do, let alone small boys such as yourself.
All the others are dead, you know" he says.
I tried to stand up and I staggered and almost fell. Two of the men who had caught me when I jumped grabbed my arms and helped me up, not unkindly.
"Show him," Said the leader.
They took me to the stern of the boat. We were laying to just outside the harbour
the town was in flames. I heard faint screams carried on the wind. Once or twice I saw figures briefly appear from out of the smoke to be cut down by pursuing soldiers
"Watch!"
Said the leader
"Look at the Castle, boy."
I looked
Suddenly there was a huge explosion. Red light flashed. Black smoke billowed from the blazing ruins. The place where the castle had been was enveloped.
Now groups of attackers started to appear and boarded boats at the quay. The boats put out to sea.
Within a short time the entire fleet lay outside the walls of the harbour. I saw a green light flare up into the sky. It was a signal. Catapults on the leading ships twanged sending huge gobs of fire towards the already blazing town. As they hit the quay and the town beyond, they exploded.
For three hours we lay outside the harbour. For three hours the town blazed sending a pall of choking smoke into the sky, so that when the sun rose it was scarcely visible through the clouds of smoke. It began to rain, a fine drizzle at first but then a deluge. The decks of the ships became treacherous to navigate as water made them slippery. Still the leader looked out over the stern of his ship, not caring about, or maybe not even noticing the discomfort of wet clothes or the rolling of the ship.
I was the only one standing next to him now so only I heard his words.
"And so brother, farewell!"
He looked at me. There was something unreadable in his eyes. Perhaps it was a smile, perhaps a scowl. I knew not why, but my heart leapt when he said,
"And now boy what shall we make of you?
"A fighter I think."
He appeared to think for a moment, and cocked his head, as though listening to a voice next to his ear.
"Aye, a soldier it shall be then"
He rubbed his chin in thought.
"Aye, a fighter, but there is something in you more than that, and this we shall also train"
He barked an order.
The two soldiers came.
"Take him and train him."
"Come lad" the one who had grabbed my ankles at the castle said gruffly.
"Let's see what we can do with ye then."
I glanced at the leader, but he turned away to regard the shore again
That was the last I saw of him for many years.
-Chapter 3- Rysapp and the Sword
Rysapp was a master of arms, a wily creature was he. He was trained in many arts of war. He had a soft side though, and a fondness for wine. I never knew his true name. Rysapp meant "the fox of the sewers" in some tongue or other. He never seemed to mind though. He had come from the dirt, and was never afraid to acknowledge it.
The nobles and princes whose sons he trained would have thought twice before looking down on him for his lowly origins, and would have shuddered at the consequences of physically abusing him in any way at all. He had the respect of all, well tempered with fear, and would have it no other way.
I see his face now as I remembered it when I was placed in his care as a lad of 12. He was grey haired. I never remember him as anything else even though he was not old. He had a pointed chin. Lines that spoke equally of laughter and kindness as they did of fear and cruelty. His nose a huge blade that cut his face, though none would dare to joke at its size. Rumours abounded that one jest about that nose might leave you with none of your own.
But I never saw the truth of such tales, perhaps because I was too busy cleaning his house and his weapons, and doing the exercises he gave me. And I worked hard to please him, even though I received many a cuff for a lesson badly learned. Aye, those were indeed times of beginning.
The hard lessons that Rysapp gave served me well. But I was still urchin enough to know that it is never realistic to get too comfortable in one place. In my experience something always happened whether through fault of my own or other causes.
For two years I had studied with Rysapp. My body was beginning to acquire hard muscles.
I filled out, for Rysapp was never stingy with food, but I didn't get fat, for Rysapp also was never stingy about the amount of gruelling exercises and jobs he gave me either.
It was in the third year that the change occurred. The change that would set my feet along the path that brought me to places so wonderful and strange that none could ever even dream of them.
It was a hot summer afternoon and I was usual was working, practicing my training exercises in Rysapp's courtyard. I had learned standard swordplay long before and my skills had appeared to satisfy Rysapp for one day he took me saide from the other boys and placed a new sword in my hand.
"It is a sword from the east." He told me, making me note the slightly curved blade and the fact that it was sharpened only on one edge but with a razorlike finish. The metal of the sword was a smoky blue, and near the hilt, which had but a slightly raised handguard, there were flowing characters inscribed. Rysapp pointed them out to me.
"That is the name of the sword. Its spirit. Only the owner of the sword knows its name and the sword is loyal only to that owner. It will bring woe to others who try to use it. This sword is linked only to one. The man who knows its name, and calls it."
I held the sword lightly. It had wonderful balance and was light compared to the swords I had used before. I tried a light practice swing. The sword silently swished through the air. Rysapp started to speak again but I was only half listening to him. My mind was on the sword. I decided to try a series of exercises I had learned to compare the feel of this sword with the sword I usually carried.
I emptied my mind as I had been taught and went into the series. Today it seemed very easy. I felt as though I was floating like a cloud, the weight of my body was inconsequential. A strange power flowed through me. I seemed invincible. Now I was clad in strange intricately patterned silks. In one hand I held the sword and in the other the reins of a long thin undulating dragon soaring above the field of an awful battle. My sword arm worked as I swooped over the heads of the battling soldiers below and crimson ruin spouted from the bodies of the screaming enemy. The characters on the blade of the sword glowed and pulsated red and green. I felt wonderfully one with my steed and my sword. As I looked at the glowing sword, its name seemed to leap out at me and burn into my head. Abruptly I was back in the courtyard. I was totally unprepared for what happened next. The sword seemed to leap to life a split second before I intended and swung around to slice down on Rysapp. I was lucky that Rysapp was who he was for the blade sliced down on empty air with a hiss that almost sounded like disappointment.
I dropped that sword. It fell with a dull thud and lay in the dust of the courtyard. Its blade seemed to absorb the sun and it gave no glint of reflection.
Now Rysapp came and picked up the sword. I noticed that he did not hold it as he would if he intended to fight with it. Rather he cradled it in his arms. Quickly he wrapped it and returned it to its box. Only when it was back in its box did I suddenly have a wreneching sense, which felt absurdly as though I had been somewhere else, and had only just returned to my body. I felt cold.
"As always, the sword seeks its rightful owner and tries to bring woe to those who would steal it." Said Rysapp wistfully.
"Many years ago, this sword came into my hands as a spoil of war. I did not win it through battle, it was in the armoury of a castle far to the east, on the borders of the Mysterious Lands. Of all the weapons there, I chose only this one as my reward."
"Then you know its name?"
Rysapp looked at me. "No, I do not know it. I cannot use this sword. It has caused me great trouble. It would kill me if it could. I seek only to return it to its owner, for it is a vicous sword in other hands. Thus I let all of my apprentices hold it just once so that the sword may, if it chooses, find its rightful owner."
"However, I have had a practice blade of the same dimensions made, though it is not sharpened"
Rysapp eyed me.
"You moved differently when you held that sword. Where did you learn that style?"
I began to sweat.
"I don't know Master Rysapp. It was as though the sword was part of me, leading me, teaching me."
I stopped, embarrassed. It sounded stupid. A sword was a piece of metal with no mind of its own except the which its owner used it.
"And did the sword tell you its name?"
Rysapp's manner was deceptively mild. There was something hidden behind it I could sense. An intent was there. I caught a glimpse of something behind his eyes, a thought...
I jerked myself awake. Had I been asleep? My mind was wandering. What was I doing seeing thoughts? Was I ill? I shook myself. I began to feel dizzy and weak.
"No Master Rysapp. I saw only pictures..." I stopped again. "I mean Master Rysapp, I must have been dreaming or something."
I was sweating profusely now, and my legs seemed to have no muscles in them to hold me up.
"Hmmmmmmm." Rysapp closed his eyes a moment. He looked at me and came to a quick decision.
"I think you have been in the sun too long this afternoon. Go inside now. And you seem to be feverish. See the apothecary. In the meantime, do not touch weapons of any kind until I tell you that you are well enough. You may cause yourself injury." He looked at me narrowly. "Or others." He added drily.
I didn't hear what other words he said, for I had collapsed.
-Part 4- Discoveries
It was a long time before Rysapp allowed me to rise, and even longer before I was allowed near a sword again. I spent the long and lazy days of my recovery in other pursuits. One of these was exploring Rysapp's extensive house. Except for family rooms and Rysapp's private study, I was free to go where I would, and as, for once in my life, I had no other duties, I began to explore. There was plenty to find. I soon found the blacksmith's and spent one afternoon watching them shape iron and other metals into a variety of implements and weapons.
As the end of the day approached, Jarg, the head of the blacksmiths, finished up his other work and came over to me.
"Whoa Daal. No work today!" He boomed with a smile in his northern accent, extending all the 'a' sounds as they did there. Like all the others he had heard of my episode in the courtyard and no doubt wondered what was afoot.
"Would you like to see the sword I've been working on for Rysapp?" He said, knowing of course, my answer.
He went over to a chest in the corner of the room and brought out a package wrapped in grey sackcloth. As he undid the tyings, I could see another wrapping below, this time of the richest blue silk. As he worked on the fastenings, Jarg looked up.
"They say you are the owner of the sword that Rysapp won on his campaign." He said quietly.
He waited, obviously expecting me to answer.
I could think of no good reply. The sword had unsettled me with its strange visions. I wanted none of its strange sorcery in my life, just a reliable blade - one which would serve me rather than make me its servant to kill who it would.