Sir Hurn sat outside the tent with the other officers, ruminating on the safest way to breach the walls of Cateill when a younger sergeant rose towards them at breakneck speed. General Logius looked at the boyish soldier with contempt.
"I hope you've not come to spatter dust on us." He growled.
Logius Hein was a tall, well built man in the Raddish fashion and the sergeant, obviously a young Jüge flinched.
"No, General. A man approaches the camp, carrying a large sword and looks like a renegade." He said.
General Logius waved it away.
"Can't you sergeants deal with it? It could be a mercenary or one of those headstrong Grovens." He said.
The sergeant paused for a second.
"And?" Sir Hurn asked.
"He doesn't look human sir, and he shouted to the camp that he wants to see the leaders." He put in.
A queer fellow, Sir Burn thought. For over three years, the Raddish Empire was at war with their counterparts, Goldengrove. The Raddish Emperor, Kan Li III had since died, assassinated by the Grovens. Hurn Timblat had fought many battles for his fatherland, and this war had been one he thought they could have won. But it seemed the fates had Goldengrove's side. A Lower Ascendant, a human with demonic powers had sided the enemy. A knight whose armor was impenetrable and took on a hundred men by himself, the Golden Knight.
General Logius continued.
"Did the fellow state his mission?" He asked.
"No, sir. He sits on top the hills overlooking the camp with his sword across his knee. He said to tell the generals that he is the Avenger of Blood." The corporal said.
Sir Hurn hissed and jumped up.
"This man must be an Ascendant too, we have to meet with him." He said. The generals looked baffled and General Logius was about speaking against it.
"But, Your Lordship....." He began.
"We battle one Ascendant, will we not try our best to befriend this one?" He asked.
They were all silent. Hurn Timblat was Lord of Eil Moseil and commanding officer of this host. He turned now to his young squire, a prickly nobleman's son named Jute Pilkington.
"Jute, prepare my horse and armor. Lords, gather a company of the host's finest soldiers, 100 in all. Let's take a look at this Avenger of Blood." He ordered.
They all saluted and walked out.
Surn Avil was one of the most impressive women ever, and in an army where male and female swelled together, that was something to say. She wasn't exactly beautiful or curvaceous but her size dwarfed many others in the battlefield, armored and swinging her hefty axe from horseback. The Grovens nicknamed her the Warthog of the East, she was about six foot five, muscular and built like a wrestler from Carin. Those who knew her feared her anger and in her division, the 19th, she'd grown to the position of lieutenant only behind an equally gifted nobleman, Sir Blowfis Jarred. It was why when the captain's returned to their divisions, she and seven others from her unit were handpicked to join the company accosting the warrior. She didn't think much of him, to her, he was a player at war and with the Golden Knight winning battle after battle, the generals were desperate. The hills that lined the camp were patrolled heavily by scouts and she wondered why no one had given warning that a man was approaching. Captain Blowfis was angry by the look of things and she knew immediately he'd been called from a game of bones.
"Disturbed, eh. You fear the Avenger?" She asked, speaking Radd in her Eastern accent. Her people had once been free, living on the banks of the Returnia Sea until the Raddish Empire came and conquered them.
"Fear, bah! I'm only vexed that such a fuss would be made over one man. If he is anything less than what the generals expect, I'll skewer him myself." Blowfis said.
"They think he's an Ascendant." Surn replied.
"Whatever, Ascendant or not, they're all greedy bastards." Blowfis remarked.
Ipri kon Estas. She mumbled.
Blowfis turned to her. He was a hulk of a man, blonde and good looking and sometimes when she lay in her tent at night, she pondered on maybe calling on him to ease the cold.
"The irony of war, in my language." She said.
Blowfis sighed.
As they crested the hill, they saw him and Surn gasped. She had never felt such an aura before, even when she'd once crossed blades with the Golden Knight and almost died for it.
This man was no human at all and she could feel it. He was tall, at least her height but lean and strong. He held one long sword across his knee and the other, shorter was sheathed in the belt by his waist. His clothes were brown or gray and he looked at them like they were flies, something to swat. He carried no armor or horse.
Sir Hurn and General Logius rode to the front of the company.
"Are you the leaders of this army?" He asked.
"Who are you?" Sir Hurn asked.
The man kept quiet.
"Yes, we are the leaders. I am General Logius Hein and this is Sir Hurn Timblat. What is your name?" He asked.
"Vikander, some have called me Bloodysword, others Harbinger of Death." He said.
Surn gasped. In her culture, there were taes of a man whose fury was as hot as the sun and who rampaged with two swords, one large and destroying, the other small and piercing.
"And what is your mission here?" Sir Hurn asked.
Vikander stood. The whole army was skittish and Blowfis had lost that smug impression on his face.
"You have a plague you need dealing with. That plague, I want to kill. Let me fight for you and I kill him for you." He said.
"Which plague? The Raddish army will crush Goldengrove." Sir Hurn lied.
Vikander smiled in a manner that sent chils down Surn's back.
"The Golden Knight. You and I both know he'll destroy your force in a week. If not for the politics he plays, he would have destroyed it by now. Only one person can hope to stop him and that person is me." He said.
The generals considered and Sir Hurn nodded.
"Why should we trust you?" He asked.
Vikander drew the long sword and thrust it into the earth. Vibrations erupted and horses reared, Surn was almost thrown off.
"Because I have vengeance to hand to the Golden Knight, and I'll take it, with or without your help." He said.
They were all silent, awed by this great power.
Sir Hurn gasped from exertion. The horses were all skittish now.
"What are your demands?" He asked.
Vikander smiled again.
"Let's talk in private, generals." He said.