The Way Of The Sword
I sat patiently as my armor was strapped over my under suit. The heavy chainmail clinking quietly against the padded bottom layer. The maids were pretty as always, though the palace maids were always a bit plumper than I liked. To be fair I was a bit plumper myself, it had been a while since I’d had time to attend one of master genous’ training sessions. But now the war had made its impact upon the citizens and it was required that one of the royalty was to attend the battlefield. This honour fell to me, what with my father being too old to fight and my other brothers either being too young or too poor with the sword to join in, let alone letting the women fight! I stood up to allow the rest of the straps to be tightened and soon I was ready. The armor was heavy, but I was used to its weight. I held my helmet under my arm as I walked out of the dressing tent. My personal butler, Griffin, was waiting outside, we studied me, and tightened a few more straps, and then said, “You’ll do”. He was also dressed for battle, though his armour was somewhat less extravagant than my own. He walked with me to the armory, where my blade was waiting. It sat in the glass case, where it had sat since my father used it in the battle against the Mustrii empire. This sword had been passed from father to son for many generations and differed from the ceremonial swords I was used to carrying. This sword, with what small amount of blood it has tasted, has ended and saved countless lives. The moral boosting action seeing a man of royal blood, wade into battle with his fellow countrymen has won wars. This is what I hope to achieve in my battle today. I knelt before the sword and chanted a prayer to the gods, before gently removing it from the case. I slid it into my scabbard and proceeded to equip the rest of my gear, the horn, a small water bag and a smaller subsidiary dagger. Exiting the tent I was stunned by the sight I beheld, though I did not show it. All of the commanders and captains knelt before me.
“FOR THE FAITH, FOR THE WAY OF THE SWORD” They chanted in unison, I chanted my reply;
“FOR THE GRACE, FOR THE MIGHT OF OUR LORD” I lifted my arms, to allow them to rise, my armor making little noise, the guilded gems embedded in my helmet shone reflections on the other tents as I held it above my head.
Griffin fetched my horse, a noble steed, whom I had ridden many wheels on. I stroked its nose before mounting up. I rode up to the crest of the hill, which overlooked the soon to be battlefield. My kingdoms army stretched out before me, its cry as I appeared, silhouetted against the morning sun must have been quite a sight. The commanders and captains rode past me to join their men, the thundering of their horses set in how imminent the battle was. From my position, I could see the mass of our enemies army approaching to the west. I pulled the horn from my belt and inhaled as much as I could before emptying into the horn, a sound that would echo through my for the rest of my life.
With a sudden surge, the army charged forwards, and after a short pause, I followed suit, the other mounted soldiers filing in behind me. I looked to my left and saw Griffin, my faithful servant and friend, we both knew that our chances of dying today were great, maybe even certain. But. It. Was. Worth. It.
The army parted to allow for my charge, my father probably would not approve of this maneuver, but it was not he who was bearing down on the opposing army. Accelerating out in front of my forces, I collided with the first banks of the republic’s military, atop my horse, their clubs could not reach me, I however, could reach them with my sword. With my balde’s keen edge I barely felt anything as it cleanly split open the first combatants skull, or the next, even the one after that. I had claimed two dozen lives before the first pawns clashed together, now the battle had truly begun. At the front forces mingled into a chaotic pit of blood and honour, meanwhile I had sped through the enemy lines, clearing a small crack through it for my men to widen. My target was the enemy commander, a brick of a man who sat atop a chariot, whipping the testis of the bulls which pulled it. Griffin was with me still, I could see blood on his blade too, and I was both pleased and surprised to see him grinning from ear to ear, it seems he had been needing to let loose. This made it so much harder to bear when I turned to look at him, after I had just decapitated another enemy man, and his smile had gone, his face red from the blood dripping out his mouth as the arrow in his neck ruptured those most needed. I signed to him a sign of peace in death and he managed the same back before falling from his horse and into the mud where he lies today. I broke the last line just as my horse fell, throwing me past the last of the republic foot soldiers.
Now I stood alone before the approaching enemy cavalry and, their commander on his chariot.
With a roar I began charging forwards on foot, closing the gap faster and faster. In my left hand I pulled out the dagger and, when the moment was right, I threw it. I watched it twirl through the air, glinting gently as it caught the sunlight. It struck true and landed square in the commander's shoulder, knocking him off the chariot, which careened off into the fray. Unsurprisingly he got up and pulled out the dagger, throwing it to the ground. We stood locked at each other, oblivious to the surrounding battle, he pulled out his chosen weapon, a meaty looking war-axe, its dual heads easily as broad as a man, with is intricate detailing etched into its surface.
At the same moment we dashed at eachother, him choosing to leap at me, so I went low, making a fatal misjudgement in my positioning.
His axe tore through my shoulder armor and kept going until it hit my pelvis, nearly splitting me in two. I knew it was a fatal wound, but I was not scared, I was not in pain, I was happy. The look in the commander’s eyes as he realised that my sword had come up under his ribcage and now poked out through his collarbone was enough. The trade had decided the battle, my actions would now grant generations of peace for my country, without their commander, the republic’s army would fall to disarray and then to my men. The lands would be ruled by my father for a while, and then perhaps one of my brothers. Or maybe my bastard son. It mattered not, they would all be acceptable. And as I lay there, the mud mixing with my blood and my body lying broken, I let myself go to the place of light, to the home of the holy.
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