The Exile Son: A Kingdom Left to the Wolves

Pain pulsed from every part of Lenara’s body as she knelt on the cool grey stone floor of the sparring room gripping a pair of hardwood training daggers. Sweat shone on her damp face. She longed for the sparring pads, but she needed to get used to feeling pain. It seemed to Lenara that for all the cuts and bruises she suffered these past few months it did little to acclimate her. The sparring master, Rurden Turar towered over her with his wooden training sword. His hard dark eyes stared down at her. “What are you doing? Get up, come at me.”

Grunting, Lenara rolled forward, taking Rurden by surprise. She landed several blows on the man’s legs and stomach. Lenara frowned, only one strike would have been fatal had this been a real fight.

Rurden backhanded her, his meaty paw of a hand sending her spinning away. He then struck the small of her back with his blade. A sharp yelp escaped Lenara as she fell to the floor. “I think that will end today’s practice. Good job today.”

Blood trickled from the corner of Lenara’s mouth. She wiped the crimson wetness away. “Good job? I still haven’t beaten you.”

Rurden smiled at her. “That roll was impressive, I expected you to stand up but instead you came at me low and got a few hits in. You’ve come a long way in nearly six months.” Rurden offered a hand to Lenara.

Accepting the man’s help Lenara was launched to her feet by his strength, she winced from the aches it caused. “I’m still hurting too much.”

“Pain tolerance will come. For now, I don’t want you to fear the pain. Accept that it will happen and move forward despite it.”

Lenara nodded.

“Now, go on and get cleaned up.” Rurden gave her a quick salute.

Lenara returned the gesture then returned her training daggers to their place on the wall before leaving. She traversed the halls of Drumbard castle, an old ruin that was abandoned and forgotten long before the Alderstrom dynasty was usurped according to Thomas. The Final Guard had done it’s best to repair it however there were still many parts of the fortress that were in disrepair and left abandoned. The castle was rarely filled with the members of the Final Guard who were constantly on the move, either on missions from the Guard Master or roaming freely on lookout for targets and information. Lenara passed by more than a dozen unoccupied rooms belonging to people that she has yet to meet. She found her room at the end of the hall and pushed the neglected, worn-down door open. The hinges screeched as the door swung. Her room was far better decorated and furnished than her room back in the tavern. Lenara remembered what Thomas had once explained to her when she first arrived.

“We are mostly what remains of the nobility in these lands, while we fight to reestablish order and civility, we’ve also made efforts to live as comfortably as possible.”

I won’t begrudge the amenities, though it seems like a silly thing to worry about. Lenara approached a large tub that had been filled with water near the fireplace. As she stared into the water her battered reflection stared back at her. She stripped her sweat soaked garments and let them fall to the cool floor. Her eyes flicked to the nearby table where a small red stone, a washcloth, towel, and soap awaited her. Lenara grabbed the red stone and dropped it in the tub. Immediately, the water began to bubble as the stone produced heat upon contacting the water. She retrieved the washcloth and soap whilst waiting for the bubbling to stop before getting into the bath. The warm soak was a welcome feeling to Lenara’s aching muscles. She couldn’t help but smile as she felt the grime and pain melt away into the steaming water.

Lenara reflected on the past six months that had passed since being taken under the wing of Thomas Rakeheart and the Final Guard. Besides the many hours of combat practice, she had been taught many other skills that she had never previously dreamed of reading, writing, forgery, how to blend into a crowd and much more. I wonder what they taught father and Thurban when they joined the army. How to handle a spear or sword I imagine.

As she cleaned the dirt and sweat from her body there was a knock at her door. “Lenara, are you in there?” The voice belonged to her mentor, Thomas Rakeheart.

“I’m bathing. What is it?”

There was a pause, then, “We have a meeting with the Guard Master. Your first assignment in the field with me.”

Stunned, Lenara blinked. First assignment? So soon? Despite all the training, I’m no master assassin or spy. “How long until the meeting?”

“Thirty minutes. I’ll be waiting outside his room.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I’m finished.”

There was only an approving grunt at the door, then the sound of Thomas’ boots as he strode away.

Lenara finished bathing and dried herself. She dug through the trunk at the foot of her bed and got dressed. Staring at herself in the room’s mirror, Lenara frowned. She was clad in leather armor that was better suited to a full-grown man’s body than hers. It made her feel ugly. According to Thomas, it was the best fit the Final Guard had for her. Lenara tied her hair back and left. It was easy to find the Guard Master’s room, she had been shown it many times but was never allowed to speak with the man. She didn’t even know his name, just the title. From what Lenara was told, the Guard Master was a solitary man, he did not fraternize with many in the Final Guard and when he did it wasn’t often. He bears the responsibility of everyone’s lives here. Even mine whether he knows about me or not. Thinking about the Guard Master put a weight on Lenara’s heart. It was a noble burden but a heavy one. She couldn’t help but to be reminded of her family. Lenara came around a turn in the hall, Thomas was leaning against the wall next to a large, closed door.

He grinned, then spoke without turning to her, “I think I’ve just about memorized your step.”

“Do you do that with everyone?”

“Only the people I work with. It’s a useful skill to have when you can’t see what’s coming towards you. I’d rather not stick a knife into someone that I didn’t intend to.” Thomas motioned towards the door. “Let’s go.”

Lenara followed Thomas into the room. She was surprised by what she saw. The man’s office and bedroom were one and the same. There was far less free space in the Guard Master’s room than her own. Much of it had been taken up by bookshelves, which housed history, ledgers, and countless other documents. He had a simple bed stuffed in the back corner of the room. The center of the room was occupied by a large, heavy desk cluttered in papers with three open chairs on one side and the Guard Master hunched over the table on the other. He did not look up to greet them.

“Go on and take a seat.”

The pair sat down opposite to the Guard Master. Lenara let her gaze fall on the man. He was older than Thomas but not old enough to have grey in his hair, yet it still streaked his blond curls. It must be from all the stress.

Thomas stroked his jawline, then said, “You’re looking busier than usual Mullart. What’s happened?”

Mullart shoved a paper towards Thomas who slipped it from the Guard Master’s grip.

Mullart looked up to speak to the pair. “The Aegarnian Collective is planning another invasion. The Kingdom of Alcrine is their target and they’ll damn well take it took if we don’t do something.”

Lenara watched Thomas grow pale as he read the document in his hands. Thomas turned his gaze to Mullart. “How did you come by this information?

“Your brother in arms, Barast Cillain. He’s found himself living amongst the upper echelons of the Aegarnian Collective. But that’s of no consequence to your mission.”

“Where are we to go?”

Mullart produced a map of the continent and pointed to a city on border of Aegarn. “The city of Rhalane. There are many in Alcrine who would sell out the kingdom for a comfy position. However, there is one man who we’ve contacted, Runnard Galten, who would save his land. He has said that you cannot meet openly.”

Lenara cocked an eyebrow. “Then how will we communicate?”

Mullart’s gaze flicked to her. “Blue cloaks.”

“What?”

“You’re to wear blue cloaks when you enter the city. One of his men will approach you, flash a silver seal, and bring you to an appropriate meeting place. Aside from that, you’re to find and kill those trying to help Aegarn and damn Alcrine, Runnard will give you the information that you need. You’ll find that your saddlebags are already stocked for the journey. Your cloaks will also be in the saddlebags.”

Thomas saluted the Guard Master. “Consider it done sir.”

Lenara followed Thomas’ example and saluted.

Mullart Saluted then nodded. “Go on, then. You have a job to do.” He folded up the map and returned his attention back to his papers.

The pair made their way to the courtyard stables and mounted their horses. “You haven’t been on long rides, have you?” Thomas said turning to Lenara.

Lenara shook her head. “Just that long walk you made me take when you took me in. Why didn’t you have your horse then?”

“No one rides into backwater villages who aren’t with the army. Riding into town or across the borders is different.”

“If you say so.”

The pair donned their cloaks and made the five-week ride north. Even in the summer, the land of Aegarn looked as dead as it was during the winter. When they crossed the border into Alcrine, Lenara couldn’t believe her eyes. Fields of green, trees that weren’t barren skeletons of themselves, wildlife was plump and moved with an energy Lenara had not seen before.

Lenara couldn’t help but smile. “It’s beautiful.”

“This is what we fight to protect and to bring back to our people. If Aegarn were to take this land it will suffer just as our home does. It doesn’t matter if they outright conquer the kingdom or force them to be a tributary, their fate will be the same.”

“Why does the land act like this?”

Thomas was silent for a long while, then spoke, “I don’t know. It seems that the land cries out for its rightful rulers and in its own way, fights against the usurpers.”

The walls of Rhalane came into view. Lenara straightened in her saddle. “Looks like we’ve made it.”

The duo rode for the city. They were directed to the stables outside the walls to keep their horses.

“Only nobles aloud to ride in the streets,” a bald, lazy-eyed city guard had told them.

They did as they were instructed without question, then entered the city. The streets were populated but not overcrowded. The smell of sweaty bodies, piss, and shit assaulted Lenara’s nose. Her face twisted into a grimace.

Thomas noticed and laughed. “I made the same face the first time I entered a city. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

A chill ran down Lenara’s back. It felt as if she were being watched. Before Lenara could say anything, they were approached from behind by a hooded man. He spoke with a low voice, “Don’t be alarmed friends and do keep walking, we don’t want to attract onlookers. Are you the two sent from Aegarn?”

The pair did as the man asked. Thomas spoke without looking at the man, “Whose asking?”

The man clapped a hand on Thomas’ shoulder and extended his free hand forward. The glint of a shining silver seal caught Lenara’s eye.

“I suppose you should lead the way to our meeting with your master.”

Without a word the man sped past them. Lenara and Thomas followed him into the cellar of a rundown, boarded up house. They were met by a bald, clean-shaven man lit by candlelight flanked by two armed guards sitting at a table with two black cloaks resting on the table. The man rose and addressed the two. “I take it that you are from the Final Guard in Aegarn. I’m Rennard Galten.”

“I’m Thomas Rakeheart, and this is my ward, Lenara.”

“Let me inform you that you were undoubtedly noticed and followed upon entering this city. You will need to change your blue cloaks for these black ones that I have provided and when this meeting is done you will exit through the passageway hidden by the bookcase behind you and my people, and I shall leave through the passage behind me.”

“Then we shouldn’t waste any time,” Lenara said.

Rennard nodded. “Our first move to make is securing the captain of the city guard. Currently, the position is filled by a man named Lundri. He’s a fat and lazy man and is loved by few. Lundri is in the pocket of Lord Drestin. Drestin is one of those who would hand over our kingdom.”

Thomas cocked his head. “What advantage would the city guard give us?”

“We can’t make any major moves against Drestin or his allies if that’s what you’re asking. However, the captain and the city guard will give us eyes on every corner of the city.”

“Where can we find him?” Lenara asked.

“He drinks at the Pine Grove Tavern.”

Thomas grunted. “Then we’ll stick a knife in him behind the building.”

Runnard leaned forward into the candlelight. Lenara could see that three scars decorated his face. One scar trailed over his left eye which had been blinded by whatever blade had cut him. “Let’s save my city.”