The rain crawls with a drizzle, they gather on the sunken empty eyes of my dear fallen. It gathers to a tear drop and rides down her temple, as if they'd ever cry at all. Her gaze was hard, mind sharp but always so stubborn, her dirty blond hair splays across the mud and face marked with scars and wounds. She looks beautiful as far as war would allow on soldiers. More so now that she rests among the others, I shut the stiff eyes of my last fifty Valkaries that stood with me on this battle.
I have none now, they wait for me to join them soon. I wonder how long that would be. I gather myself and stand tall among the bodies, they all seem so small to me now. I weap for them and their families because they had to fight in a battle against me. I want to take a piece of them with me as I already do in my swelling heart, I don't.
There's too many, instead I trudge through the wet mud, thick and putrid under my boot. My dirty styled gambeson is layered with leather armour, then a battered steel plate. My leather pants tapper to my ankles frayed and tattered. My helmet is damaged and abandoned somewhere. My cloak wraps around my form, rough harddened fabrics that were white is now baked into rust red. Blood, sweat and dirt mesh with it.
I boil alive inside the layers.
I soon join my marooned camp and tired soldiers stand aside greeting me with respect, a right hand to the heart and open palm out against the forehead. I nod to them and carry on, ignoring the mummurs that I heard clearly.
"Did you see her fight?"
"Fight? Saved my bloody mare life she did.", I smile inwardly not letting it show hearing that.
"Who is she?"
"Do maggots eat yar ears, or are yar darf. It's The Man Eater in the flesh-" I frown at the title and stop listening when it's all just rumoured gossip.
I slide my fingers through beaded strings opening to my tent when I hear a call and small footsteps behind me. I turn to face the noise, Volgrin pants tired infont of me and I wait for him to catch his breath. "General, ma'am, Chancellor Louise au Valois, summons you at his private lodge a thrity minute trek on horse from here." I raise my chin at the boy, "When squire." He answers, "Tomorrow sir- ma'am."
I let my heavy smile show on my face, this boy is so adorable in his pursuit to be a man. He glows in this deep dark death-pit that eats those men and leaves peices. He admires me, wants to be me but I won't let that happen, "Go to the Chancellor and tell him I will be there by the time the sun kisses the horizon," He almost bolts off before I put my hand on his shoulder, "And when I am not there, and he asks for my arrival tell him my trek is slowed, for the war must be finally weighing on me." I push the boy along, head to my tent to finally attend a long awaited intimate sleep with my bed.
Stripped down to the gambeson.
-
The evening greets me as I finally rise, not as energised I though I'd be. My exhaustion larger than I thought, I ride the distance on horse to meet the Chancellor at twilight. I gallop infront of his lodge and enter the den on foot. Gaurds greet me as I enter and walk to a large dinning hall and a long table, at the other end is a thin man wrapped in an expensive outfit, the sleaves flaring out with delicate puffs. Out these sleaves is a boney hand cupping his bored orange eye watching me enter. Beside him is his mistress who's hand retreats from his.
My heart darkens as I open my chest out and spit the words, "I trust that all is well with you, sir Chancellor, Louise au Valois." I sit across the table where cold porridge lie, he fixes his posture to face me.
"Goodness in me all the same. What a shame the light abandons us before your arrival. Darkness steals the heat of your porridge now."
I look at my bowl and take a spoonful of the grey slop, "No worries, dear Louise au Valoise. War teaches warriors not to be picky." I eat it and drop the spoon with a clatter.
He leans back into his chair looking around the room and the balconies that are attached to the walls. They breathe, "I naturally have to congratulate you on your victories and your promotion of your ranks. You've certainly made a name for yourself indeed. I am honoured to have known you before your fame, and it is my pride to have been the one to have lifted you to such heights." He gestures in a flourish, "And I don't mean ill by what I say. Your visage now is quite unsettling." He snickers behind a thin white smile.
I don't entertain the fool any longer and glare at him, "You have not earned the right to use contractions with me Sir Valoise, nor express such familiarity." He throws his hands, "Come now, 15 winters is time long enough and last we met was some..." he rolls his hand, "4 winters ago. Nevertheless, I salute you... General. The war is near it's end now due to your long contribution. I dare say we may see peace." He runs his finger along the gold crusted wine glass, "A queer thing that is."
I raise a hand to him, "I must interrupted you and ask why you have summoned me here?" I look at his mistress then back to him, "We both know that we are not on good terms." An understatement, I'd strip him of his position when I rise high above him. Right now neither of us can do that, "The battle of Westeria is to be had in a fortnight against the capital, there is much to be done so I must hurry."
He nods taking in my booming voice, and how my words begin to slur. He lifts his glass and drinks from it before raising his glass up high, "Goodman, I must admit something then," he rises from his seat, "The victory of this Kingdom will not have you leading the vanguard to victory in the history books." Archer rise from the balconies overlooking us notching their arrows, I stay seated. "They will have me, the dukes and Queen at the helm. Not you, after all you killed my father!"
I see his scheme now, he killed his father to take his power, why am I not surprised, "What is this? You snake." I rise slowly, feeling dizzy I steadying myself on the chair.
"A new age general, and you don't belong in it. Let's end the bad blood between us with yours spilt and my additional occupation as Baron. Thank you for your service dearly."
The archers fire their bows and I finally show them why I lived after countless battles. My heavy cloak is thrown aside to one shoulder revealing the inside of it and then the air hiss like a hydra waking. Fabrics wrap around an incorporeal appendage and fingers hover close embracing me. The arrows glance off or sticks barely to it as the dead fleshy hand of a giant fills the hollow cast that protect me. I synch my left hand to my golem hand and move it at will, now heaving out the dismembered hand to the walls. The archers scream, die and fall.
I glare at Louise and the assassination attempt and just before I can think of ending him, some fifty gaurds spill from behind him from the doors. He points at me. Wine glass still in hand, "General Togu has gone mad with murder, seize her!!" I will lose this battle, my grip on my craft is fading and so is it's form.
I turn and run down where I came where the two gaurds that greeted me now block my path, one swings to cut me down the middle. I deftly dodge it as it cuts my gambeson throwing myself to the narrow walls and push off it to hit his shoulder driving him into the wall. I jerk my head to one side as the next gaurd thrusts his sword for my head, I move forward to him raising my leg and stomping on his knee that gives in to the weight. He cries out for his aching leg and I pick the sword he drops, the gaurds behind me flood the corridors for me.
I run out the lodge falling down the step as the poison begins to set in my muscles. I crawl up to my horse and ride off, I don't go to my army as I am chase. I am not a coward. I let them lead me of the path. I ride through the highlands and icy plain, my focus split to eat at the poison that threatens to paralyse me for the dogs. Arrows are fired from horse back whistling past me until few strikes my horse's legs, she's trained to take the abuse but her speed is slowed and theirs catch up. I jump off mine and climb the steep hills, and more arrows fall on my back penetrating my hard cloak carving into my skin. They eventually run out and still chase me, some 15 men now. Easy pickings. I take rocks and hurl it to the climbing assaulters striking them and 3 tumble and hopefully die down on the bace of the hill.
My strength is returning and so I rise and run down the rocky hill and throw myself into the mass feet first. We all tumble and pull others into my death roll, I push off when I roll onto my feet and now flip thirty meters in the air, a flourish of my coak opening and my golem hand holds me and I brace to meet the ground.
My teeth rattle, my bones rumble and arrow heads find a home deeper into my hard back before coming to a halt, the hand unfurls fading. Revealing my nauseated and bruised form. I look up at the 7 climbing down to me and the 5 other that grown in pain, I fetch my sword from my horse and make quick work of the wounded waiting for the others to join them. They do and they are now weary of me, barking orders I don't hear anymore. One lunges at me. I bat his sword aside with mine running down the length up and slash down until my blade opens his throat and his sing in the air. I prepare to cast my golem hand crushing two in it's grip; four more left and realize the poor lads are shaking in their boots.
I dip my fingers in blood and run the crimson colour to my cross-shaped scare that runs deep down my pale eye to jaw and across from cheek to cheek. I drive my blade to the ground and pose like many statues I've seen stand valiantly.
"W-witch!" One say fighting against the fear that grips him to face me. I give him my gaze and attention to fill more in him; enough to freeze him in place atleast.
I slammed my fist to my chest thumping the torn gambeson that protects it and my voice fills the chill air, "I am Tobu of Sundown; Eater of Armies! On my command I have devoured armies of General Beatrix Von PĂ©rigord, General Frederick Von Saxony, Baldwin of Flanderson and General Alaric au Lusignan! Tell Chancellor Louise au Valoise that if he wars with me I will decimate his armies, maroon his house and I will not eat him, my hounds will!"
It's a promise and an oath that I declare, I don't wait for them and climb my horse riding to my army. To prepare for battle.
-
I ride 400 strong with my army, against house Valoise. Hardened by the recent battle my men know war. Not many armies can say that these day when soldiers are few and boys many. My squire rides with me and his clean armour, we eat the distance as we reach the castle.
The castle looms in the distance, an imposing silhouette against the misty, wooded highlands. House Valois may have numbers on their side, but they're soft, hidden behind their stone walls while my men have tasted blood and fire. The 400 horsemen behind me move in disciplined silence, their breath misting in the cold air, every one of them ready to strike like wolves.
As we near the outskirts of the castle's reach, the woods grow denser, the paths more winding. The trees whisper to one another in the wind, as though warning the men of the battle to come. My squire, Volgrin, rides beside me, his armor still shining from lack of use. He is young, too clean for this kind of war. His hands are steady, but I see the uncertainty in his eyes. I let him have his fear. In time, if he survives, it will burn away.
I pull the reins, stopping us on a ridge where we can see the castle below. The great fortress of Valois juts out from the highlands, guarded by 3,000 soldiers, but most will be trapped behind those walls. No castle, no matter how strong, can hold that many men forever, not when food and supply are cut. From here, I can see the banners fluttering on the towers- Chancellor Louise au Valois sits high in his keep, thinking his stone walls will keep him safe.
He will learn.
I turn to my captains. They circle me, their breath steaming in the cold as they await my command. They are seasoned men, Grimbald, my right hand, an old warrior with a face carved from granite, and Cadran, my scout master, who sees the battlefield like a hawk from above.
"We will not waste lives assaulting their walls," I say, my voice a low growl. "Let them think they are safe. We'll starve them out."
Grimbald's eyes flick toward the castle. "They'll have enough supplies to last weeks, maybe months."
"They won't survive long without their foraging parties," I reply, a grim smile tugging at my lips. "We'll cut them off from the woods and burn anything they can reach."
Grimbald nods, understanding immediately. His mind works like mine- swift, ruthless. He barks orders, and the men begin to fan out into the woods, setting traps, digging trenches to cut off supply lines, and positioning scouts on every road and path that leads to the castle. We will let nothing in, and soon, nothing will come out.
I turn to Cadran. "Take your best riders and harass their outposts. Ambush their foragers. Keep them afraid to leave their walls."
Cadran grins, already eager to begin the hunt. "I'll make sure they feel hunted."
He rides off with a handful of his men, disappearing into the trees like shadows. I watch them go, knowing that within days the enemy will start to feel the pinch of our stranglehold.
For days, we stay just out of sight, but always close enough for them to feel our presence. My cavalry sweeps through the woods, cutting down any patrols foolish enough to venture out. We leave their bodies for the birds, their armor stripped and their horses taken for our own. Their foragers no longer dare the woods, and I can imagine the unease settling in behind the high walls of Valoise.
Every night, we set fires in the distance, letting the smoke drift toward the castle, a reminder that we control the land around them. Cadran reports that they've tried sending messengers through the woods, but none have returned. He delivers their bloodied sigils to me as proof.
"They're tightening up," he says one evening, sharpening his dagger by the fire. "They've stopped sending out patrols."
"They're afraid," I say, looking toward the distant glow of the castle's torches. "And soon, they wil be starving."
As the days stretch into weeks, signs of desperation begin to show. Grimbald informs me that the enemy has begun burning their dead within the walls, a sign that food is running low. Word reaches us from peasants fleeing the region that Chancellor Louise has taxed every last grain of wheat from the nearby villages, hoping to hold out longer.
But it won't be enough.
We strike again and again, not in large numbers but in swift blows. Night raids on the castle's outskirts. Ambushes in the forest. Every time, we slip back into the trees before they can respond, leaving them bleeding and disheartened.
One morning, I receive word that Valoise has sent a detachment of soldiers out in desperation, perhaps seeking to break our siege or find some hidden route to resupply. I wait, hidden in the woods, watching through the mist as their forces march cautiously down the path.
"Now," I whisper to Grimbald.
With a nod, he signals the charge. My cavalry bursts from the trees, arrows flying, swords raised. The enemy is caught by surprise, their formation shattered. They fall back in chaos, trying to retreat to the castle. We cut them down as they flee, and by the time the survivors reach the gates, they are fewer by half.
That night, I send a single messenger under a flag of truce to Chancellor Louise.
"Tell him," I say to the messenger, "that I offer terms. If he surrenders now, his people will live. If not, they will die with him."
By dawn, a reply comes. The gates open, and a lone rider comes forth, holding the white banner of surrender.
Chancellor Louise au Valois, once so proud, stands at the battlements, his face gaunt and pale. He stares down at me, knowing that his defeat was not by sword but by patience, precision, and fear. His 3,000 soldiers remain locked behind the walls, weakened, starving.
"I accept your terms, Tobu of Sundown," he calls out, his voice hoarse. "Spare my house, and I will surrender."
I raise my hand, and the horns of my army sound the call of victory.
-
I pull my sword from my sheathe, it will have gone blunt by now. Still sharp enough to hack through him, I made a promise. That declaration still echoes in my mind, and so I repeat it again to him. My chest puffed out and stance poised, "I am Tobu of Sundown; Eater of Armies! On my command I have devoured armies of General Beatrix Von PĂ©rigord, General Frederick Von Saxony, Baldwin of Flanderson and General Alaric au Lusignan! Chancellor Louise au Valoise I have tasted yours and it doesn't come with great shame! We are weaker for it- the Vatu Kingdom is weaker for it. For that, I will maroon your house and I will not eat you..." my voice is low and venous, "My hounds will!"
From the wall of soldiers that surround us it opens to men holding back the rabid dogs barking feverishly. These are "man eater". Poor Louise weeps, I do not feel for him. He begs. I don't hear him, so many beg like him and after 15 years of him existing and me not killing him; it's long overdue.
I hear something over the jeering crowd of soldiers. It's so faint and soft, it stirs something inside me at how different it's desperation is. Up? Pop? Stop? Stop.
"STOP!"
A boy wrestles against the wall of the crowd, a gesture to let him through.
"OI! Ya wee bastards, Stawp fightin'!" His voice is light, queer accent strong. The crowd goes silent, "Don' kill the man! You monsters!"
"Angus, no... leave. Go with Lady au Valoise."
I compare the two, the boy is not his son.
Louise au Valoise has bright brown hair and his skin similarly so, amber flames colour his eyes that hide behind thin brows and jaw tapering like a sword. This boy, 'Angus' is like me in his complexion. Much paler actually, spots decorate his face from cheek to cheek, emeralds shines in his eyes, hair golden-red and curly.
I've never seen his kind of breed before, my brow furrowed, "Who is he?" I gesture to the boy rushing to stand between me and Louise.
"I'll tell you everything- about the boy just spare my life Togu." I snap my head to him spiteful retorting, "Oh please! Don't start with me on the word 'sparing'." I turn my attention to the boy, "You boy, where do you hail?" He mocks defensively, "Up ya arse."
I sigh gesturing for the dogs be silenced and call Volgrin to my side, "Take the boy, lock him in a shed or something."
Volgrin was part of my scouts in the battle that harrased the house's vanguards with ambushes. He's seen death. While he is not a warrior, he's earned the right to be considered a soldier. Compared to the thick boy, he is skinny but not weak. He carries the boy like a sack of struggling potatoes out from parting crowd.
I look at Louise, "Who is he?" He narrows his eyes, "will you spare my life?" I clench my jaw and think long and hard looking at Grimbald for approval before replying, "Depends on your answer really."
He looks around seeing that he doesn't have many options, "He's from another realm. One he calls Urd."