Legend of the Swords: War (11 page)

“Gentlemen, dinner will be served in an hour.” He kicked his horse’s flanks and was off.

*   *   *

Renek was lead to a medium-sized tent, with a nice bed. A soldier brought him some cold water about a half an hour after he had arrived.

“Sir, here is some water!” the man said, putting the bucket just inside the tent flap.

Luckily, this woke Renek. He had lain down on the bed, intending to close his eyes for just a moment. Instead, he had fallen asleep in his armor.

I need to be careful about this. I seem to be getting very tired after a battle, although it was better this time than the first.
He grimaced, and retrieved the bucket.
It wouldn’t do to fall asleep during a retreat.

He spent some time cleaning his armor and his sword, and tightening the wire and the leather straps that held his makeshift pommel on. Then he stepped out of the tent into the evening air. The guard gestured towards the largest tent.

A few moments later, he stood outside of what he assumed to be Hesiod’s tent—the large one flying the colors of the kingdom—which was strangely unguarded. There was no way to knock. He looked around for Rimes, but didn’t see anyone.

“Hello?” he said, then shrugged and scratched the side of the tent near the entrance. A guard pulled the flap to the side and peered out.

“Renek?” the guard grunted. Clearly he had been told to expect him.

“Yes.” Renek looked at the guard with a critical eye; the tall, spindly man’s armor was ill fitted, hanging loosely about his narrow shoulders but too short and tight on his legs. His sword looked too short for his body, as well, which would limit his reach in battle.

“The Lieutenant is expecting you.” The guard moved aside so that Renek could enter.

Renek passed the guard, and entered a small antechamber. The real entrance to the tent was still ahead. He reached out to pull aside the flap, but paused. He turned towards the thin man to ask, “How do you announce that you’re outside? There’s no place to knock.”

The guard laughed. “Well, I don’t know how your people do it, but we generally clap, or just speak a greeting.”

“Thanks.” He entered the main tent. Captain Rimes was already at the table, which Renek was surprised to see had a tablecloth draped over it. It also had a lit candelabra. The captain and Lieutenant both rose to greet him.

“Renek!” Lieutenant Hesiod exclaimed. “I trust your tent was to your liking?” He smiled broadly at his guest.

“Thank you, it seemed extravagant for my needs.” He smiled in return. The lieutenant’s warmth and pleasure was easy to pick up.

“Yes, yes, only the best for our guests—especially ones that come to our rescue!” He frowned briefly. “It’s a shame, but we have several extra tents like the one you were in, that would normally be reserved for captains. This has been a brutal war, with a terrible cost.” He shook his head, but brightened immediately. “But please, you must sit and eat with us. We can speak of more serious matters after dinner.”

Dinner, or at least eating, seems to be important to these people
. Renek thought to himself. He looked more closely at the Lieutenant. Hesiod was a bit shorter than he had expected, judging from when he had seen him on his horse. He also noticed that, despite being in good fighting condition, Hesiod seemed to have a bit of extra girth.
Perhaps it’s just Hesiod that likes food, and not the whole culture.
Renek grinned as he was led to the table.

The table was set with fine porcelain plates, and real silver. The glasses, already filled with wine, were made of thicker fired clay but were still elegant. Fine cloth napkins sat on each plate, and were folded into the shape of a duck. A large plate with some sort of roasted bird sat in the middle of the table, and several local vegetables were on plates on either side.

Lieutenant Hesiod lifted his glass and held it out. The two warriors on the other side of the table lifted their glasses in response.

“To new friends!” Hesiod said, and they clinked their glasses together and drank.

The meal looked to be excellently prepared, despite the fact that it was served in a war camp. Renek saw several interesting uses of various things that seemed out of place on fine plates, such as biscuits served with the bird that were clearly travel biscuits—dense, dry, and filling, but hopefully they wouldn’t be too bad when soaked in juice from the bird. There was beef jerky in the green beans instead of ham. Dessert was already on the table, and seemed to be fruit mixed with honey and nuts, all probably gathered from nearby farms.

“Lieutenant, this is an opulent spread for a battle camp. My compliments!” Renek said. He noticed that Rimes rolled his eyes in response to the compliment.

Hesiod must have seen Rimes’ expression as well, for he said “Ah, Captain Rimes,” he said with a rueful smile, “you shouldn’t begrudge a man like myself his little … creature comforts!”

Renek smiled politely, clearly confused.

A soldier came in, dressed in a chef’s traditional uniform, and began to serve the dinner. Renek noticed that there was an odd bulge in the man’s clothing at his waist. When he reached around Renek to put food on his plate, Renek noticed that there was a similar, if smaller, bulge in his left sleeve—and he caught the slightest glint of a silver pommel as the chef reached for one of the plates of vegetables.

Hesiod sighed. “You seem confused, good sir. You are right to be.” He signed again, and looked down at the roast bird in front of them all. “You see, I am not a ‘true’ soldier, as Rimes would tell you—if I would ever stop talking and give him the chance!” He glanced over at Rimes out of the corner of his eye, then back down at the food before continuing.

“I know the king quite well. I am quite the … athletic courtier,” he looked at Renek and smiled weakly, “but, in the end, I am still a courtier. Because I am smart and able
politician
, the king saw fit to ‘reward’ me with a command in the army.” He laughed a rather high-pitched, tinny laugh for such a large man. “I suppose our dear King felt that if I was good at stratagems in his court, then I must be good at stratagems on the battlefield.”

“Was he right?” Renek already knew the answer before asking.

“Sadly, no. I am no better than any other inexperienced man.”

Rimes cut in. “Well, it’s better than I thought it would be.” He raised his eyebrows and nodded a shaky nod, as if trying to convince himself that what he said was true. “We’ve lost about a quarter of our men, and the Triols’ army is four times our size.”

Hesiod waved his hand in the air. “My dear captain, continuously fighting a retreating battle will reduce losses even under the most idiotic commander—such as myself.”

Renek smiled, and asked, “How do you know about retreating battles if you have no experience?”

Hesiod laughed his light and airy laugh again. “To be honest, I did read a book, or perhaps even two, on our way to meet the enemy. I’m not a total idiot.”

Renek laughed along with both other men.

Hesiod picked up his fork and poked at the leg that had been served him. “Regardless, I agree with Rimes—we’re in much better shape than I thought we’d be in when we left the capitol.” He winked at Rimes. “We could have done better, perhaps, had we not had to carry a trunk of plates, cookware, silverware, and spices, eh Rimes?”

Rimes snorted into his plate.

Hesiod grinned sheepishly at Renek. “My one condition of fighting, I begged the king to find the best chef-soldier in his army before we left. One extra chest of materials and I can eat like a human being, instead of eating beef jerky for half my meals, and cold hard bread for the other half.” He wrinkled his nose. “Of course, both of those are better than…what did you call it, Rimes? That …
soup
you said you had to eat in your last campaign?

“Whatchagot Stew,” Rimes said, without hesitation. “You find whatever you can that’s … mostly eatable, and you put it in water, boil it for a while, and then you eat it.” He furrowed his brow. “Shoes ain’t really that tasty.”

Hesiod shuddered. “No, I rather imagine that they’re not.” He cut off a piece of meat and chewed, closing his eyes in pleasure.

Renek followed suit, and it was quite good. More flavors all at once than he liked normally, but they did complement each other quite well.

“Ah, there’s a touch of fennel in this,” Hesiod murmured. “We must have passed some earlier, that wasn’t in the food I brought with us.” He grinned and winked at Renek. “Not too shabby for being on a campaign, eh?”

“Not at all, Lieutenant. It’s quite good.” They ate in silence for a while.

Eventually, when everyone was just about done, Hesiod pushed his chair back from the table, dropped his napkin on his plate, and sighed contentedly.

He raised his eyebrows, and looked at Renek with a piercing stare. “And now, Renek, please tell me of how you saved the day?” He leaned back in his chair a bit, and jutted his chin at Rimes. “Rimes, you can follow up with your side of the story.”

Renek settled back in his chair, thinking,
I can see how this man leads. He may be a fop, but he knows how to be direct, commanding. And I’ll bet that he can spot discomfort and lying a mile away,
he added to himself, thinking about the intrigue and politics that a courtier must face when vying for the attention of the king.
I’d better be careful.

“Well, Lieutenant, I had been traveling in this direction since the cold of the early morning, trying to meet up with you…”

*   *   *

Hesiod seemed impressed with Renek’s tale.

“You mean that you managed to corral Rimes’ men, fight like a bear, and hold the Triols off until Rimes could form a defensive line, and escort them off the field, without getting hurt, after you had been
marching
all day long?” His eyes were wide as saucers. “That’s simply incredible, man!

“Rimes, what do you think this man could do with a full belly and a good night’s sleep?”

Rimes yawned hugely before answering.

“Rimes, my dear boy, cover your mouth. I don’t need to see your tonsils.” Hesiod smiled. “I think you may have had a bit too much wine and food.” He turned to Renek. “Poor lad’s used to the field rations. Is this the first time you’ve eaten with me, Rimes?” He nodded, then answered his own question. “I think so.

“Off to bed with you, Rimes. Renek and I have a bit more to talk about this eve. It was fascinating to hear your side of the tale as well, but I’ve got that.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. I am quite tired, and the day’s … activities were hard on my men, too. I’d like to check in on them before turning in.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Good night, captain.”

They watched Rimes walk out of the tent, back straight as an arrow despite his tiredness.

Renek turned to Hesiod as the tent flap closed. “He’s seems quite the soldier. Is he one of your best, Lieutenant?”

Hesiod waved at the air. “Please, call me Hesiod. It’s how I was known back at the court, and with none of the soldiers here anything else seems silly.” He looked at the tent’s exit. “Yes, he is a good man. He would be eaten alive back at the court, of course—too many people there looking to get a leg up by stepping on your dead body—but he is a good soldier, and would happily die for the kingdom, without thinking twice.

“I would like to prevent that, Renek.” He was looking directly at Renek with a sort of intensity and clarity that doesn’t come easily to most people, especially after a feast. “I need to know why you are here. I need to know if I can trust you.”

“You can trust me, Hesiod,” he said. He tried to put conviction in his voice, even while knowing that the Lieutenant would never trust a simple assertion.

“It’s not that simple, Renek.” He smiled, tapping his fingers on the table. “You came out of nowhere. You speak our language well, like a native.” His eyes narrowed. “Yet your armor is strange, and your sword is stranger.” Renek’s eyes widened, and Hesiod smiled. “Did you think that you were the only one with eyes that could see? I saw how you appraised everything about you. I even saw when you noticed that the waiter was armed.” His smile broadened. “I don’t think you saw the dagger in his boot, though.

When Renek jumped, he smiled. “Don’t be so surprised. If I weren’t able to see the details, then I would have been poisoned, or knifed in the back, long ago.” He nodded, deep in thought. “That’s one of the reasons that I can’t trust you, not yet—it would be too easy for one of the Triols to have a good accent, and to arrange things in just the right way so as to seem trustworthy.” He leaned forward. “I already trust you quite a bit, as you no doubt have surmised—otherwise I wouldn’t have confided in you my lack of trust.” He straightened up in his seat. “Maybe I am betraying my own need of better men about me, the need for good advice, and better battle plans. Were you an enemy, it would be far better to have an enemy who does not know that I know he is an enemy.”

Renek smiled apologetically, a bit confused at the layers of thinking that Hesiod seemed to be able to think of simultaneously. “I don’t know how I can get you to trust me, then.”

“Well, you can start by answering my question. Why did you set out to find us?”

“Hesiod,” Renek said, shaking his head, “I’m not sure that you will believe me if I tell you the truth.”

“Try me.” There was no trace of his court laugh now, no smile. He was deadly serious.

And he’s probably armed to the teeth, just like that ‘chef’ was.
Renek thought to himself.
I hope he believes me.
He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“To be honest, I don’t know who I am, or where I came from. I woke up at the top of a mountain a few weeks ago, in the care of some extraordinary monks, and they took care of me. They said that I was ill to the point of death when I came to them. After they had cured my illness, they returned the things that I had with me when I came to them, and they were soldier’s things, mostly just this sword. Since they had been so kind to me, and not asked me for anything for their services, I decided that I would put my weapon to work for the people that protected them—and that would be your king’s army. You.”