The Return pt.14
Silence had hung over Lucien and Arcia’s ride towards Salver for several hours. Not one word was spoken between them until, finally being unable to bear it, Arcia asked “Can you tell me about your people? You seem proud of them and seem to share a strange connection to horses.”
Lucien looked up through the treetops towards the blue sky above as he said “What more do you want to know? We are the children of the Goddess Panno, birthed and raised to serve as guides and guardians for her horses. We were taught hunting, war, farming and everything else by her. Our language comes from her, our very souls come from her, and most shall return to her. The only exceptions are those like me, who were given new life by Moriena as one of his children.”
Arcia preferred to continue looking ahead of them as a warm breeze filtered through the woodland road. “Are there any gods you don’t like?”
For any Dharan this was an easy question to answer, and Lucien’s came quickly “Draekia.”
With how quick he had been to answer Arcia was surprised and quickly followed up by asking “Why her?”
“Draekia and her wolves are the enemies to Panno and her horses. Under Draekia’s command her wolves began targeting us Dharans and the horses we protected. This forced Panno to teach us how to make weapons and hunt, turning her into a goddess of the hunt.”
Arcia was about to ask another question, but Lucien had continued speaking, keeping her from doing so.
“But that is not to say Draekia and her wolves were not influential on us. Some of the stronger aspects of our culture come directly from them. Our fierce loyalty to our spouses for life. Our insistence on the good of the group and great loyalty to each other. And our fierce nature in battle. In terms of importance to my people Draekia is second to Panno.”
Surprise came over Arcia as she listened to Lucien speak of the ways his people were influenced by Draekia. As people so close to horses, she expected to hear about great harems not loyalty to a single person and she questioned Lucien over this loyalty to their spouses when the horses they were closely connected to and greatly cared for showed no such thing.
“Originally my people were like our charges in that regard. But through our great battles against Draekia’s wolves, we began to become more and more like our hated enemy. First, we began to eat meat. Then we began to actively hunt in packs, not just for food but to preemptively strike those that would prey on Panno’s horses. And eventually our people changed from having many wives to having only one, with both being willing to die for the other. It became normal for men and women to remain pure until marriage and that marriage to last into the afterlife.”
That was when Lucien smiled and looked to Arcia “That’s not to say some of us weren’t more…like the horses we watched over than others. Some of us men were considered to be of the horses, unable to be committed to one. But it was not of shame. Rather it was acknowledgement of our past and one that could earn you great fame if you worked for it.”
Before Arcia’s curiosity caused her to ask about the Dharan women, Lucien further explained “I know of none that ever took Dharan women for fun. After all, no Dharan woman would ever willingly give their bodies up to anyone other than her husband.”
Having heard all of this, Acia wanted to ask Lucien if he was one of those considered to be of the horses, but the smile on his face was enough of an answer. He was. And clearly, he was speaking mainly of himself, though it came as a shock that he never had his own women given his obvious love for his people. But it was with these thoughts that Arcia realized why he was going to Salver. Lucien was rescuing probably the first he truly cared for in such a way.
Only able to nod her head, Arcia continued to listen as Lucien happily continued rambling on about his people’s history, culture and beliefs. She listened to tales of great victories and defeats, of great heroes and their feats, great hunts, and times when their two chief gods directly involved themselves with the Dharans.
Arcia learned of Dharan funerary rights. About how the only dead buried in any fashion were those who wished for their souls to remain behind on Vyrna to continue guiding their fellow Dharans, with funerary pyres being the normal method so that the winds may carry their souls and ashes back to Panno’s side in Kurrgan.
From there she heard much of the kings before Lucien. He had much to say about his ancestors, starting with the founding King of Arlorne, King Orias Salvatal I, all the way to the great queen Elizatawel Salvatal I. Not much was said about those kings Lucien knew personally or his other close relatives. She had already learned much about his mother, but Arcia could sense from Lucien’s avoidance of speaking further on his close family that his early life must have been filled with great tragedy beyond the passing of his mother. Even with her viewing most of Lucien’s stories as fantasy, she felt this to be true.
As the stories continued it caused Arcia to ask a question very few manage to ask a Dharan “Is there any other god that has affected your people besides Panno and Draekia and Moriena?”
Lucien thought for a moment before answering “Yes. Taka. He gave Panno an Eagle that she in turn sent to aid u Dharans. I believe it is called the Black Beaked Eagle by those outside of the east but we Dharans referred to it as Panno’s Eagle. Taka would also later give her a hound for us Dharans to have.”
Hearing the name of Taka was more interesting than most of what Lucien had just said to her. In her mind images of the large brown eagle with its black beak flashed quickly before her mind settled on the god. Lucien had never mentioned the God of Second Heaven Fala before, and this was quite interesting.
After mumbling a little about the god to herself, Arcia spoke rather loudly in surprise as her thoughts came together “Wait. If Panno is your mother goddess then who is the father?” Her head then turned to face Lucien as she continued asking “If Panno gave birth to your people, then who impregnated her? I know that we humans were created in the image of the gods, but I’ve never heard of a goddess giving birth before.”
Lucien’s armored shoulders shrugged as he answered “We do not know. Panno has never spoken of it before.”
This answer was unsatisfactory to Arcia and Lucien could see it on her face. Continuing Lucien says to her “My people do have theories to this but no belief over any of it. One theory is that Moriena had laid with Panno, given our relationship and history with Draekia, but this is not likely. Panno is close to Vyria and would never do such a thing to her. Another theory is that Panno simply willed herself pregnant using her powers as a goddess.”
Arcia could only stare at Lucien as he spoke of these theories. It was all so strange to hear theories about the relations of the gods to a people, when all she had ever heard before were certainties. Certainties she was now doubting because of this man.
Seeing the confusion on her face, Lucien let his smile become gentler as he said, “I too, have a theory as to who my people’s father could potentially be.”
When Arcia’s attention turned to him completely Lucien continued “I personally believe it was Taka himself that fathered us. He is known to have been very close to Panno at one time. And as I have said he did give her an eagle and a hound. No other has been given such gifts from him.”
He then looked ahead as he finished his thoughts “I personally feel that Taka and Panno were much closer in the past than we are aware and that we Dharans were meant to be their children but when Taka fell victim to Syver’s deceit they fell apart. Panno likely tried to convince Taka of the truth and to talk to Vyria personally but felt betrayed by his refusal and willingness to turn against her because of lies.
“She then went on to give birth to my people on her own and raised us in her image rather than their image. The eagle and hound could have been gifts to court her originally or in apology after the deceit. I do not know and likely will never know unless Panno wishes me to. After all Taka has never spoken to any Dharan and the hounds and eagles never respond to the prayers of his priests or followers. They only ever respond to Panno’s Dharan tongue.”
Silence returned to them as Arcia thought over everything she had just learned. Once again, she felt like the little girl living in the orphanage and excitedly listening to the priests in Salver teach her about the gods. But this time she was learning something completely different to what they believed. It was all so mesmerizing and nearly incomprehensible. There was much to think over but for now she wanted to learn more from Lucien, and so asked “Are there any other peoples like yours?”
For a moment Lucien thought back to all the peoples he had encountered in his over two millennia of existence before answering “None I know of were also born from a goddess but…” He then unfastened his belt and held it up so Arcia could focus on the sword hanging from it. As he gestured towards the guard he asked, “What do you call this?”
Quickly Arcia answered “That’s a crossguard.”
Lucien nodded his head before explaining to her “You could call it that, yes. But in my time, we called it a Simmeran Guard, after Simmeran people who first used it; though they called it Muriela’s Guard after the war goddess who taught them of the guard.”
Arcia slowly nodded her head as Lucien affixed his belt back around his waist. Eventually she asked, “But why a cross shape?”
“Think back to the depictions of Muriela you’ve likely seen. What is one common thing they all have?”
The realization was quick “Because the cross is her personal symbol. I always thought the crossguard came about for some other reason and just became associated with her because of its prominence. I never would have thought about it like that.”
Chuckling a bit, Lucien continues explaining “No, it was because the cross is hers and she told her chosen people to use it on their weapons and armor. The rest of Rylocke adopted it after numerous battles against the Simmerans and found it to be quite practical. Hells, I was thirteen when it first spread outside the Simmerans and was fifteen when I held the first made by Dharan smiths.”
It was then Arcia asked out of a strong curiosity “Why were they taught by Muriela? You said they were her chosen people but how? Why?”
Continuing to smile as he looked ahead, Lucien answered to the best of his recollection of the many stories he had heard “Muriela approved of their near constant state of warfare and took them as her own. I do not know about now but during my time they were the only people to worship her as their principal goddess, given Muriela’s propensity for mass slaughter of her enemies.”
With his mind focused on Muriela and the Simmerans, Lucien asked “Do the Simmerans still exist? I know I destroyed their cities, but they were always a hardy people that come back like weeds.”
Arcia had to think for a moment before cautiously saying “I think so…”
“They should reside in the most northwestern portion of Rylocke, along the Donian Islands.”
With the extra information her mind was quick to remember “Oh yes. Their capital Aquilon is on the mainland.”
This caused Lucien to laugh heartily, nearly scaring Arcia as she looked at him in surprise.
“Why are you laughing?”
Looking to Arcia as his laughter subsides, Lucien answers “The Simmerans would never unite under one city. The only time their city-states cease warring with each other is when outsiders invade their territory. Aquilon is likely just the city the rest of Rylocke trade with the most.”
Arcia could only stare blankly at Lucien. Surprise had claimed her once more. She could not believe what she had just heard. No one had ever mentioned, nor any maps included other cities in the region aside from Aquilon. But as she thought more and more, it became obvious as to why. The seas would be run amok with warships in battle. No merchant or trader would be willing to risk his vessel and crew by sailing into such madness. It would be the height of foolishness.
But as her mind worked over her many thoughts about the Simmerans and their fractured people of city-states, Arcia’s attention was forcefully pulled away by sounds coming from ahead of them to the west. Lucien had heard them as well and sat up in his saddle, staring into the distance. Death and chaos were ahead of them causing Lucien to quickly mention “Battle,” before urging his horse forward nearly leaving Arcia behind.
The two of them closed in on the sounds of battle and as they crested the hill they found it. The open fields before them were quite large and off in the distance, in the middle of this clearing, stood a single village suffering from a bandit raid. Arcia could see the chaos unfolding, even from a distance, as the villagers tried to flee or fight back against the large group of bandits raiding and pillaging.
Her surprise at this sight was immense enough to cause her to ask “Bandits? Here? How? Where are the local forces?”
Lucien found his fury growing with each successive question from Arcia. And his fury nearly erupted when he found the answer to many of her questions.
Arcia’s gaze followed Lucien’s arm down past his extended finger and out towards the opening. Just a short distance from the village stood the well-equipped local security forces.
These people were meant to protect their people in villages like this one from man and beast alike. Yet they just stood there doing nothing but watching the havoc inside the village. Lucien was shaking with rage as Arcia asked “Why are they just standing around watching?”
“Cowardice,” was all Lucien said as he urged his horse forward and rode down the hill towards the local forces. Arcia was quick to follow suit, shouting after him as she rode as hard as she could to keep up with the enraged Lucien. Her mind full of prayers for the villagers and questions to why it was allowed to continue.
Across the open fields the two rode, the sounds of the madness only growing louder with each passing breath. Each movement of the horses moved them closer and closer, allowing Lucien’s fury to only grow. Being from a culture and people where one would die for another Dharan, no matter the cause, the creature known as Lucien could not understand such cowardice. Why were these armed and trained men not in the village dying to protect their own? Why were they just standing away and watching as the bandits raped, murdered and pillaged a village under their protection?
Finally arriving at the local forces, Lucien rode directly in front of them before sliding off his horse as he spoke to it in Dharan, preventing it from ever stopping. His fury then nearly exploded as he shouted, “Who in the hells is in command here?”
A single well-groomed man in armor stepped forward shouting back “I’m in command here. Who in the hells are you?” As the man was speaking, Arcia finally arrived and slid off her horse before watching it rush off after Lucien’s
Not bothering to answer the question, Lucien furiously shouted back “Why aren’t you in that village protecting your people? Why aren’t the bandits dying by your hands?”
The commander straightened his back out and did his best to look down his nose as he looked up at the giant Lucien “The bandits greatly outnumber us and are just as well equipped. They’re taking advantage of the river’s destruction. Most of our forces are attending the river, trying to quickly re-establish a bridge so that trade with the villages to the east can continue. The lumber and pelts are too valuable to lose access to for long, as ruled by Duke Castellen.” The commander then snidely added through his moustache “It’s just better for us to just let them have their fun and clean up the mess afterward. It is just a small insignificant village anyways. It doesn’t matter in the slightest”
One sudden motion was all it took for a furious Lucien to draw his sword and remove the commander’s head as he had finished speaking. The commander’s head fell to the ground as his body crumpled alongside it. Lucien’s fury had finally erupted, terrifying the men as he looked towards their cowering forms shouting, “Any other cowards not want to go into that village and defend their people?”
Only one man began to step forward and speak up but if it was in protest or to volunteer to go forth, they would not know. His head fell to the ground separately from his body that collapsed to its knees.
“Anyone else not willing to fulfill their duty to their people? Anyone else wish to receive a coward’s death?”
Not one man said a word to Lucien. If one could see the skin on their knuckles, they would have found them white as snow as they held tightly onto their weapons. The fear Lucien instilled in them was far greater than the fear of death. And Lucien knew it.
“Form up men. I will lead you into battle. If any one of you dares to retreat from battle without my orders, I will personally kill you.”
Quickly the men tightened their formation and readied themselves for the coming battle. And Arcia watched on in surprise. Lucien’s voice had changed from one of righteous fury to that of a great general.
“We will kill all the bandits, and we will save your people. If you die, you die doing what is right. As is your duty. I will fight alongside you in carrying out that duty.”
Lucien then reached down to one of the dead men and removed the shield from their arm, securing it to his own and drawing his sword with his true offhand. Then he turned his head to Arcia and gave her orders as well, “Arcia, you go round to the other side of the village and kill any bandits that try to flee.”
Fear seemed to take her near immediately as she protested “But I can’t fight them. They would surely take me.”
Lucien smiled confidently at her “They will not notice your presence. Smash them in the head with your hammer and you will surely have their lives.” His eyes then turned seriously as his voice dropped “Believe in me Arcia. You were capable enough to surprise me. You will certainly surprise them as well, just they will not live as I did.”
Arcia nodded her head as she swallowed hard but still reach down to one of the two dead men and took a spear and sword from them. She wanted more than just her trusty hammer if she was to fight bandits. Then with a quiet nod of her head and a nervous smile, she took off sprinting around the village. As she ran Lucien smiled as her presence shrank away to nearly nothing, even to his excellent senses.
Then turning his back to the men, Lucien spoke commandingly again “Forward.”
If any of the men had thought about trying to run Lucien through with their weapons, they did not show it. Lucien was prepared to make sure any who tried would not survive the attempt. But when it never came his confidence in these men grew greatly. They were fine enough soldiers and would carry the day with him in command.
Hoping they were well drilled enough; Lucien issued his first battle command with just one simple word “Shields.”. When he looked over his shoulders a smile came to his face. The men had understood and raised their shields and secured their formation from missiles, even from the flanks. Then without need for a second command, the men lowered their spears and marched alongside Lucien into the village.
Several bandits were quick to meet their chosen god as they were too busy to notice the incoming forces. Lucien kept the men pushing forward as they dispatched these bandits that tried them with relative ease. Massacred and barely living villagers lay around their feet. The few still breathing were quickly pulled into their formation by the men before being healed by Lucien and sent to wait outside of the village.
Deeper in the village Lucien noticed most of the bandits had quickly organized and were now moving in unison with his formation towards the center. A few bandits still tried but were easily cut down. Their intentions were being made clear to everyone around Lucien without a word being said, encirclement.
But as they neared the center, the battle became worse. The bandits had begun to set fire to everything and were executing many of the villagers outside of the center. Thick black smoke from the fires quickly choked everything as the screams of the villagers were quickly snuffed out. A few more bandits would meet a grisly end, greeted by a wall of spears as they exited their victims’ homes, having been distracted by them.
For a moment Lucien halted the formation with the center of the village in their view through the smoke. “Men you either die to the last or win the day. We will be surrounded but it is they that should be misfortunate. Stay in formation, force them to you and kill them to the last.”
Silent acceptance was all the men could do. There was little more than thirty of them and they had only killed an equal number of bandits. But they knew there were more than a hundred waiting for them. These bandits were not just criminals on the run, some were conscripts left behind after war and others were down on their luck battle hardened mercenaries. As they resumed moving forward the men around Lucien resolved that if they were to die here, they would make it such an end as to be remembered.
Exiting the smoke like a force from the Sixth Hell Margus, Lucien and his men easily slaughtered an attempted ambush as they entered the village center. After, they continued forward until they were standing directly in the center, surrounded by an entire bandit force that was completing its encirclement. Without a word needed the men in the rear and on the flanks turned to face their enemies and readied themselves for their last stand.
Directly before Lucien, sat upon a makeshift throne was the leader of these bandits. All around the men could see abused women chained and bound in various ways. Fear and the wish for death in many of their eyes. Dead bodies of men and women lay spread around on the ground, crucified on makeshift on crosses, strung up from the burning buildings, quartered and every other manner a depraved mind could think of.
Yet some still lived. Men had huddled their families together and used their bodies to protect them the best they could. The wives were also placing themselves between the bandits and their children. But it was obvious the bandits were enjoying toying with them.
Quickly glancing around his formation, Lucien smiled as he saw the men understood and had already adjusted their square formation appropriately. He then cocked his back and looked down his nose at the bandit leader as the leader spoke first “I take it the long-haired giant is the leader here.” This bandit leader quickly glanced over the formation Lucien led and smiled “I see two missing. What happened to the noble chap and one of the regulars in this force?”
Lucien’s voice came out like venom “Cowards who were not willing to carry out their duty to their people. Such do not deserve life.” His words were meant as much for the bandits as they were for the two, he had killed.
The extremely handsome and accented voice that came from Lucien was surprising to the bandits, as was his confidence and obvious arrogance towards them. The bandits could only smile as their leader waved some jewels and finery that they had looted from gods know where and spoke “Why not join us giant? We can make you rich beyond your station and allow you to take all you could want.”
Spitting at the ground before him, Lucien answered with his disdain carrying in his voice “Why would I lower myself to that beneath an insignificant worm when I am already a king? Why should I join walking corpses in death?”
A sigh came from the bandit leader as he stood from his throne. “I guess you can’t change the mind of a delusional and suicidal man.” Then with a nod of his head the bandits began to close their encirclement of Lucien and his small force.
Lucien’s arrogance began to show more now with his face bearing a wide cocky grin. He would toss his sword from his hand and watch as the tip pressed into the ground, standing the sword upright. Pointing to it, Lucien said to the bandit leader “If you can reach my sword, I will let you live and run off with it.”
The dark blade attracted the attention of every bandit there. It was clear from its appearance alone that the sword was exquisitely made despite the simplicity. And the runes along the blade gave hints to its ancient origins. The bandit leader was just as arrogant as Lucien and watched with a smile as Lucien took a spear from a man in his formation; though this arrogance led to anger when he heard Lucien answering the worries of the man he took the spear from “They are not skilled enough to take that blade from me.”
Keeping his anger calm the bandit leader spoke to Lucien “This isn’t much of a challenge. I can just take the sword from your corpse.”
To Lucien the bandit leader’s arrogance was unfounded and annoying, so he taunted him loudly “If you believe it will be so easy then you should have no problem taking it from me by force. Or are you just a coward who can only loot from the dead after all your men have done all the killing?”
The grinding of teeth was all Lucien needed to see as he lowered his stance and readied himself for battle. The bandit leader was sure to play Lucien’s little game now; though he did not understand just how outmatched him and his men truly were.
Assaulting the formation of spears and shields, the bandits found themselves unable to close in as their numbers quickly shrank but they still far outnumbered the security force. Eventually they began to try arrows and while they found more success with them, wounding a few through their shields, the formation continued to prove unmoving and deadly. Several bandits even decided assaulting this formation was not worth it and turned tail to run. A few were struck down by their comrades, but several escaped the village, unknowingly into a small trap that would claim a few of them.
With the chaos of battle unfolding around him, the bandit leader was pacing about, watching Lucien carefully as he killed all who dared to attempt approaching him or his sword. The ground around the sword remained pure with not a single corpse near it, proving his great skill, but the bandit leader continued watching and studying like a stalking predator, failing to realize he was the prey.
But the great success of Lucien’s forces was not to remain so. The bandits had found their crossbows and killed two men through their shields. Even with some small success the bandits were not able to press it. Lucien’s men were quick to plug to holes created in their formation and pulled their dead deep into the formation.
Finally finding what he thought an opening, the bandit leader lunged in to grab the sword, but Lucien’s spear came in quick. Raising his sword to deflect it, the bandit was shocked to find the spear tip snaking its way around his sword and was forced to fall away from the strike. When he rolled back to his feet, the bandit leader reached up to his bronze face and found a large cut across his left cheek. His eyes quickly cut back to Lucien and found him grinning from ear to ear. It was then the bandit leader let out an annoyed growl as Lucien taunted him with a simple hand gesture.
With the battle continuing to unfold around them and bodies continuing to pile up, the two of them continued their little game of death. Every attempt at the sword was driven back by the tip of a spear. And each time he was driven back, the bandit leader was left with a new cut, a new wound, a new stain on his pride. But even though he knew he could just wait for the formation to be crushed, Lucien’s ever-present and mocking smile compelled the proud bandit into further attempts.
After many, many failures to get around Lucien’s spear, the bandit leader took a moment to look around him and found Lucien’s formation had significantly tightened due to their losses. A newfound confidence surged in him as he paced, watching for his opportunity and soon, he found it.
Lunging in quickly as Lucien retracted his spear from a now dying bandit, the leader reached for the sword with a smile. Even the spear coming at him from an awkward angle caused him no worry for he had won. With his sword deflecting the spear high into the air he proclaimed himself the victor as his hand grazed the dark blade’s hilt. Victory consumed his mind only to be replaced with a sharp pain felt low in his belly, beneath his armor.
A cough of blood came from the bandit leader’s mouth as he looked down to where the pain was. There his eyes filled with surprise as he saw a metal spear tip piercing him. Slowly his eyes made their way up the spear shaft to the armored hand of a grinning Lucien.
How? How had Lucien been able to readjust his spear so quickly?
With these questions the bandit leader looked up to the spear he had deflected, as it reset from high in the air. His eyes followed the shaft down to a man standing in the formation around Lucien. The spear he had thought Lucien’s was deflected into him by one of his fellow bandits.
In this moment of realization, a look of disgust and death came across his face. And the next moment the first of three further spears would find gaps in his armor. Two would enter his belly alongside Lucien’s and the third would find the gap at the base of his throat, just above his right collar bone.
He was dead. He knew it. And he knew there was nothing to be done. Not when the spears were pulled from his flesh. Not when he collapsed to his knees. And not when his vision went black as he looked at the sword that just cost him his life. The same life he had carefully fought to preserve until now. He felt his body grow cold before falling forward into the warm blood and ash turning the ground into a strange mud. Quietly, drowned out by the sounds of death that he could no longer hear, his hand slipped away from the hilt of that black blade and his life followed, slipping from his clutches as well.
With his game now over, Lucien let lose a Dharan battle howl, that sounded more wolf than man, and ordered his men to push forward, to assault the bandits and crush them. He was no longer toying with a worthless scrap of humanity, no, he was now fighting with all his martial might as he led a barbaric slaughter of these bandits. And with his mighty skills on full display his remaining men slaughtered the bandits and forced a route. The gods of war rejoiced.
Lucien’s men pursued the bandits in a mad frenzy. No quarter was given. Every bandit they caught, whether by running him down like a wolf on the hunt or by forcing them into a corner alone or in a group, was slaughtered without pause. Every bandit corpse was left mangled with fatal and non-fatal wounds. Not one bandit was granted an honorable death. All were killed like common dogs.
As the pursuit forced the bandits out of the village the open farmland came into view. The bandits continued to flee as Lucien halted the pursuit. Looking around, him and his men saw ten dead bandits lying there. The men under Lucien’s command were surprised to see the boyish Arcia jerking her hammer free from the skull of the eleventh bandit. They had thought she was sent to safety; none had thought she would actually kill any of the bandits. But they were proud to be wrong.
“Arcia.”
Hearing Lucien say her name, Arcia pulled her short hair back with her off hand and looked up at him as she attempted to catch her breath.
“You did well this day.”
A large smile came over her blood splattered face before he could even finish speaking “I am proud to have you as my companion.”
Her bronzed face turned red in embarrassment as she held herself back from excitedly jumping at him. It had not been very long since they had begun traveling together but she had come to know a great deal about him, and she understood for him to compliment a non-dharan in such a way was quite significant. Even if she did not quite believe him about who he claimed to be, she did believe he was quite important in the east given all she had seen.
With Aria proudly accepting Lucien’s compliment, her attention turned to cleaning her hammer and sword from the matter of the eleven bandits. Lucien’s attention turned from Arcia to the men behind him. Out of the thirty-five he had entered the village with, fewer than twenty remained standing. Five were being carried by their fellows, the dead rested gloriously surrounded by their slain enemies.
Looking into their faces, Lucien no longer saw scared men. Those faces had been replaced with the hardness only battle develops alongside a new appreciation for each other and their duty.
“Men you fought well. Bravely. Let no man or woman tell you otherwise. Let no man hold you back from your future duties. Go forth as you did today. Carry yourselves with pride and know that you have conquered. You have made your ancestors and the gods proud.”
He then took them all by surprise by lowering his head to them. None of them had ever seen such respect from someone like Lucien. All understood him to be some sort of noble from the east and all were used to bowing to such, not being bowed to by such. And with great quickness the men saluted Lucien as he raised his head. A small joyful smile came to his gaunt and pale face, and it could not be hidden by his long hair and scraggly beard.
“I am honored to have fought alongside you all.”
With those words Lucien pointed towards the surviving villagers approaching them from around the village. “Take charge of them and see to it that all survivors are gathered and safe. I will do what I can to spare the village from any more destruction.”
Half the men hurried off to carry out Lucien’s orders as the other half continued to aid their wounded. All the while Lucien looked over the burning village.
Walking up beside him, Arcia asked “What are you going to do? How can you save it from burning down?”
Lucien looked down at her with a wide smile “Remember our conversation about the ice dam in the mountains?”
His question was answered with a quiet nod of her head, allowing him to freely ask a second question “Would you like to see something grand?”
There was no need to ask what was meant by something grand. Arcia understood Lucien was about to use some grand magic and so once more offered a quiet nod of her head.
Watching Lucien look towards the sky and hold out his arms as he spoke in some ancient tongue, Arcia saw the smoke filled, blue sky quickly darken with thick storm clouds. Thunder roared above them as a cold, heavy rain began to fall onto the village and its fields. Certainly, this was something grand. This was an impressive magical feat that she had once thought impossible.
As Lucien lowered his arms dark hair clung to his face and armor while his somber eyes continued to look up at the sky. “Rana Pon’tia Hedan.” Arcia did not understand these words, but Lucien did. And as his eyes closed, he mumbled just loud enough for Arcia to hear “May Panno’s rains gift us life.”
Lucien slowly opened his eyes and looked back at Arcia, finding her staring at him with her dark eyes. The cold rain had already soaked through her short brown hair and caused her clothes to stick closely to her body.
“Go find yourself something to cover up with and tell the soldiers and the villagers to bring all the wounded to me.”
Arcia’s face turned red as she realized why he was telling her to cover herself. With a quick nod of her head, she turned and scampered off with many thoughts filling her head. She had never heard of someone summoning rain before. But this was not just rain, this was an entire storm that darkened the skies. And now it seemed like he was going to treat the wounded as well.
Slowly the villagers gathered their wounded and brought them to Lucien, who was already kneeling next to and healing the wounded men he had led into battle. They were amazed to see Lucien’s armored hand hovering over one of the men with a light green glow between them. Everyone watched as the man’s wound healed and soon the only way to tell he had been wounded was the damaged armor.
Lucien took his time healing everyone that was injured, with many villagers venturing into the village looking for any more injured. Fifteen more villagers were found alive but five would succumb to their wounds before they made it to Lucien, leaving a further ten to be healed by his hand.
When all the wounded were healed Lucien stood from the ground as he was asked by one of the soldiers "Sir, what do we do with the dead?"
Without needing to think Lucien answered “You should help the villagers tend to their dead first. The victorious dead should be given over to their families if possible. If not tend to them here. If you were of my people I would help you with the pyres, that your ashes and soul would be carried by the wind to Panno, but you are not Dharan, so I am unable to aid you in this.”
The soldier nodded his head clearly understanding what they were to do, but he still had one more question “What do we do with the two you killed?”
There was no need for clarification. Lucien knew the man was asking about the two men killed for cowardice. It took but a moment for Lucien to come up with an answer “Tend to them as you would anyone else. It would be unacceptable for you to follow some strange man after he killed two of you. You should lie about me being here. Tell everyone they died fleeing the bandits. Do not let them share in your legacy of courage. Tell everyone you all stood bravely against the odds without those cowards and came out victorious.”
Once more the man nodded before attempting to speak once more but Lucien stopped him. Shaking his head Lucien offered a polite gesture of farewell before looking to Arcia “Come.”
Leading her away from the group of villagers and soldiers, Lucien called for their horses as Arcia said “You are really something Lucien. I suppose I owe you an apology since I didn’t believe you when you talked about your skills in magic.” She then grabbed him by the arm and pulled his attention to her before lowering her head “Forgive me Lucien.”
She felt his heavy hand gently fall onto her shoulder as his voice came out gently “There is nothing to forgive Arcia. You did nothing wrong in doubting me.”
Slowly Arcia looked up and smiled at him as the heavy rain continued to fall down them. In that moment Lucien found her beautiful, but he would not allow his proclivities to distract him now. Morrigan still needed to be rescued, and he would not slow down until he had. His fury at the sight of such great cowardice had only temporarily overridden his sense but now nothing should be in his way. All that tried would be dealt with.
Reaching out to grab his horse’s reigns Lucien said to Arcia “We need to go into the village before we continue on. I left something there.”
Confusion came over Arcia for a moment before realizing his sword was not on him. And this surprised her more than his great skill in magic.
The two of them slowly led their horses through the mud of ashes, rain and blood. Around them lie dead bodies of the villagers, bandits and soldiers alike. All mingled together in a macabre mural dedicated to the gods of war, death and destruction. The sight nearly made Arcia sick. She had heard it all unfold and watched from afar but seeing it up close was different. It made her fully appreciate the destruction that men can cause.
After what felt like the longest walk of her life, Arcia finally was able to look around the center of the village. The pile of dead here truly showed the scale of the massacre, and she found herself glad for the rain as it was keeping the stench down, but even the heavy rain was unable to keep the smell of iron from hanging strong in the air. Every step she took was on a dead body or in mud she could not see for the blood and gore covering it. And she held her breath with each step as every step threatened to send her tumbling down into the mess.
Ahead of them, standing proudly amongst the quagmire of death was Lucien’s sword, untouched and untainted by the scene around it. Even the blood from those it had slain had been washed away by the rain. Only one thing sullied the ground near it, the body of a slain bandit lay there undignified.
Lucien walked up to his sword and roughly pushed the body away with his armored foot before pulling his sword from the ground. Acia wanted to protest the treatment of the body but was cut off before she could utter a single sound “Do not protest for this wretch. He led these bandits and thought himself superior.”
Silent understanding came over Arcia as she watched Lucien find the cleanest cloth he could before cleaning his sword of the mud. Over and over, she watched Lucien clean his sword before inspecting it, only for him to start the process over again until he was satisfied. It was then he made sure it was dry as he slid it into the sheath.
“We should leave.”
With those words he mounted his horse and urged it forward. Arcia was quick to follow and soon the village was left behind them.
As they rode on through the storm, the two could see the edge of the storm ahead them causing Arcia to speak her first words since leaving the village “This is something unheard of Lucien. I still can’t believe you created this.”
Lucien smiled as he heard this. But he could only take so much credit “It is Panno’s magic. She is the goddess of storms. Thank her for allowing me the use of some of her might.”
A warm breeze pushed against their backs as Arcia patted her horse’s neck. “I will.” Her words brought obvious joy to Lucien’s face as he motioned for her to take the lead as his guide.
Coming to the edge of the storm Arcia turned in the saddle and looked over her shoulder back at the smoldering ruins of the village in the distance. The soldiers and villagers moving through it resembled specks of dirt from this distance, but it brought a question to Arcia’s mind “How did you lead those men so well? I don’t see how it’s possible. They all seemed too terrified.”
Looking ahead Lucien answered “They will never be able to fight the same again without me. Most will likely die trying but they will never again know the might they felt this day.”
“Why?”
Arcia’s confusion was easily read through her tone and when Lucien turned his head, he found her looking him in the eyes. Just looking into her eyes nearly stopped him, but he forced himself to answer “I used some magic from Moriena and Panno to increase their abilities for a time. It was the only way for them to win against such odds.”
Thinking back to that quagmire in the center of the village Arcia spoke her thoughts “Three to one,” only to be corrected by Lucien “Four to one.”
The now familiar feeling of surprise came over her when she realized just what he meant. And it was only further hammered home as he urged his horse forward while saying “They were not well armored enough, nor well trained enough to do what they did this day without assistance from the gods and their magics.”
Lucien would then go on to proudly proclaim that if he had a similar force made up of his Dharans, they would have easily accomplished what was just done. He would continue to claim that his fellow upír could have accomplished it with fewer than five.
While listening to this Arcia urged her horse forward to ride at Lucien’s side. She did not ask what would have happened if he had been willing to use his magic against the bandits. It was obvious from his display after the battle. He would have easily dealt with them. “Why didn’t you handle them then?”
Chuckling came first from Lucien before he answered, “They needed to handle it themselves, as is their duty.” He then looked to Arcia and continued with a joyful smile “And I enjoy a good fight.” Lucien would continue with pride and joy in his voice “I spent nearly all my life training for war before accepting Moriena’s gift and continued to hone my skills until I imprisoned myself in my castle. It would be a great shame to not use those same skills.”
It was now Arcia's turn to chuckle. This creature riding next to her was a walking nightmare, a person possessing both some of the worst traits a human could have and some of the best. Both a savage and cruel barbarian and yet a just and noble knight. Lucien spoke like a man educated in highest orders with admitted scholarly pursuits but had lived as a barbaric warlord. A great principled warrior but one who savagely dealt with those he views as in his way. Possessing a strict moral code but would savagely enforce that code onto others. Never had taken a woman from his people as he remained unmarried, yet he is a self-admitted womanizer having been with an untold number of women from outside his people. A man whose martial pride and moral code prevented him from using his great magic to handle certain conflicts with ease, but he would still sacrifice his time to heal those wounded and save their village from a destructive fire. Lucien was quite a haunting individual and quite proud of himself, even knowing the flaws in his being.
The pride he held became more obvious when her gaze returned to Lucien and found him sitting higher in the saddle than he had before. This was the proudest she had seen him given the despair and self-doubts that had hung about him but soon that nearly overwhelming pride gave way to exhaustion as he looked to her and said “We will need to rest soon. A few good meals does not make up for eight centuries of not feeding properly. Using such great magic only makes me feel it more.”
A sigh escaped Arcia as she pointed far ahead of them, well away from the storm. There they could rest for some time, if only he could make it. But Arcia quickly made up her mind that she was not going to wait on if. No, she was going to make sure he could make it. If he did not, she would never be able to move him until he awoke and that could not happen with dusk still hours away.
Moving her horse closer to his, causing their knees to rub against each other, Arcia offered her arm to him “Drink Lucien. You need it if we’re to make.” Gently taking the arm in his armored hands, Lucien thanked her before gently sinking his teeth into her flesh.
Arcia’s mind nearly went blank from the pleasure now coursing through her. It was a far greater pleasure than any she could have imagined, and she came to understand why Moriena was associated with beauty and power. And disappointment quickly filled her when Lucien finally pulled away from her arm and healed the bite mark. She did not want it to end, confusing her, but she now realized why vampire victims never fought back once bitten.
With his smiling mouth still covered in her blood, Lucien thanked her once more. Arcia looked at him and even with her blood running down his chin and staining his teeth, she felt excited. Warmth had filled her belly, and she quickly turned from him and spurred her horse forward, urging it to go faster now that Lucien was doing better. She could not let him see how red she was turning, nor learn how excited she felt, but Lucien already knew. And he could only smile as he licked his mouth clean.
