The Cavalier (19 page)

“Do you really think so? The idea is intriguing but I feel as if it is just a dream, something that I want to reach for but cannot grasp. I do not know if I could do it.” There was a part of him that believed the goal was not outside the realm of possibility. He had discussed that very idea with Fil, but hearing the words mentioned by another made it sound impossible and far out of reach for a young boy who was raised in the mountains.

“You do not do yourself justice, Jonas,” Cyn responded. “I have known fighting men my whole life. You have a strong heart and you are very brave for your years and lack of experience. You and Fil have both shown your courage and bravery. I have seen grown men, tried warriors, run from less than what we faced tonight. You saved me today with your bow and you both took part in helping Allindrian kill that abomination. I think you have the makings to be a great warrior, maybe even a cavalier,” Cyn concluded, looking Jonas in the eyes.

Jonas, not used to compliments, looked away. “I thank you for your confidence, Cyn. It just seems so far-fetched. I can’t imagine myself as a cavalier.”

“I’m sure Airos felt that way when he was a boy as well,” Allindrian said with a reassuring smile.

“They are right, Jonas. I will go with you to the temple and we will see what they say. Then I will join the Finarthian army, hopefully with you by my side,” Fil added.

Jonas smiled at Fil, grateful for his support.

“I think we need some rest now. Thank you, young man, for telling us your story. And please know that we hold no misgiving for your concealment of the truth. Under the circumstances, it was probably the right thing to do. Let’s get some rest so we can travel with all speed for Finarth in the morning,” Landon said as he slowly rose, aided by two of his men. “Cyn, please take care of the watch and make sure that no one is on duty alone tonight. I doubt we can expect another attack but let’s be ready for it nonetheless.”

“Yes, sir,” Cyn replied, and began to give the orders. Everyone settled down for the night, except the guards who constantly scanned the darkness, holding their spear shafts a little more tightly.

Five 
Finarth

The remaining four days to Finarth went by quickly and without mishap. The caravan followed the Sithgarin River for several days before they started to meander through various farming settlements. Landon directed the caravan southwest when they reached the smaller Ungard River. The road was well traveled and there were many small homesteads nestled in the Finarthian hills.

As they neared Finarth, on the fourth day, Lanz, one of the caravan scouts, rode to Landon’s wagon where Jonas and Fil sat leading the oxen.

“Tell Master Landon that riders are approaching on the main road,” the scout said, pulling his lathered horse next to them.

“Tell him yourself. What do you see my friend?” asked Landon, poking his head through the canvas flap on the covered wagon.

“How are you feeling sir?” asked Lanz.

“I’m well. The wound is itching a bit, but other than that I feel fine.”

“That is good, sir, means it’s healing.”

“What of the riders?” Landon asked again.

“I believe they are Finarthian Knights.”

“Good. Have Cyn and Allindrian ride next to me when the knights arrive,” Landon ordered.

“Yes, sir,” responded the scout as he rode off.

It wasn’t long before Jonas and Fil made out the long lances sparkling in the midday sun as the knights rode towards them.

“Do we have anything to fear from them, sir?” asked Fil cautiously.

“Oh no, I am well known in these parts and I am a friend of the king. I imagine they will escort us to Finarth,” replied Landon reassuringly.

Jonas gazed in awe at the knights as they drew near. There were probably fifty of them, all riding magnificent war horses. They wore sparkling plate armor embossed with the king’s standard, a fist within a shining sun. Their billowing blue capes were lined with gold thread and their helms were of the finest quality. Every knight carried a long lance with a wicked silver point. Jonas noticed that they also had shields and swords strapped to the sides of their horses. Their horses also wore protective plates covering their noses and their muscular chests. A blanket of chain mail draped the warhorses to protect their flanks and tough leather saddles were perched like a king’s throne on their backs. That’s what Jonas thought anyway, looking at the magnificent riders. He had never seen anything like them. They slowed as they neared Landon’s caravan.

“Halt the wagon, son,” Landon said.

Jonas pulled back on the reins and they stopped about forty paces from the knights. The knights slowly rode forward, their lances held high as the dust from the road finally settled. The lead knight lifted his visor, handed his lance off to another warrior, and rode forward. He looked like all the rest except that he wore a purple cape while the others were blue.

As the man neared, Jonas could make out his features. His dark hair was streaked with gray, and he wore a dark mustache and beard that made his ice blue eyes stand out. He smiled seeing Landon but it did nothing to erase the hard weathered features of his face.

“Third lance, Lathrin, how are you? How long has it been?” Landon asked smiling broadly.

“Too long, my friend. It is good to see you,” greeted the knight. The dark haired knight noticed Landon’s leg, his smile changing to a look of concern. “What happened to you, Landon, you are injured?”

“Yes, we were attacked by boargs on the road.” Landon’s expression became more serious.

“Boargs? You must be mistaken. I have not heard of boarg attacks for many years.
 
Where did this happen?” asked Lathrin.

“On the road from Tarsis, no more than three days ride from Finarth’s gate. We have some more troubling news that cannot wait. I must see the king.”

“Of course, we will talk more of this when we get you to a healer and a nice comfortable bed. I will escort you personally.” Lathrin, seeing Allindrian, smiled warmly. “Blade Singer,” he said, nodding his head in greeting. “It is an honor to see you again.”
 
Allindrian returned the greeting with a subtle tilt of her head and a gentle smile.

The captain returned his gaze to Landon, continuing to address the injured merchant. “Now, let’s get you to a warm bath and a nice soft bed. I’m sure you deserve both.”

They rode for half a day before the city came into view. Fil and Jonas were very excited after seeing the splendid knights and they harassed the tired merchant with endless questions.

“Sir, why did you call that knight, third lance?” asked Fil.

“The Finarthian Knights are organized independently from the Finarthian Legion. The knight’s leaders are signified by a ranking title and a particular color,” Landon explained.

“So the number of lances in their title signifies their rank,” Jonas reasoned.

“Yes. Lathrin is a third lance, which means he is in charge of two modrigs, called a ludus,” Landon continued. “And that rank is marked by a purple cape.”

“A modrig? Ludus? What are they?” Jonas asked, his eyes sparkling with interest.

Landon laughed softly. “Son, let me explain before you sling more questions.”

“Very well, I’m sorry, sir, I’m just so…”

“I know,” Landon interrupted, “I remember the excitement of youth. As I was saying, a modrig is two hundred and fifty men, while a ludus is five hundred.”

“So a second and first lance must be in charge of all of them,” Fil reasoned.

“Yes, there are two second lance knights and they each are in charge of
an akron, which is a thousand, while the first lance is in charge of all two thousand.”

“I see, so Lathrin is a strong warrior?” Jonas asked.

“He is, but it is not always the strongest warriors who make higher rank. They must also be sound thinkers and men of intellect,” Landon informed them. “Battles are won for many reasons, just one of them being the ability to fight. There are many other characteristics of a successful army. If things go well here you will both likely learn what I am talking about.”

“I can’t wait,” Fil said exitedly.

Jonas smiled, gazing at the column of knights marching ahead of them.

Fil and Jonas sat in the wagon with mouths and eyes open in wonder. Finarth was huge, and neither of them could imagine a community this large. The lands surrounding the city were blanketed with homes where farmers and herders lived. Landon explained that the land outside the city was cheaper with lower taxes. Inside the city lived the artisans, merchant elite, and the noble families who occupied most government positions.

They received a few looks from the many people along the road, but for the most part the citizens acted as if they were accustomed to seeing merchant caravans and armed knights.

Fil and Jonas looked on, noticing that these people didn’t seem much different from the hardy mountain folk they knew. No one was idle and everyone, from children to the elderly, was doing something of use.

As they drew near to the city gates Jonas was amazed at the immensity of Finarth. An outer wall twenty paces high surrounded the city. It was made from thick cut stone, each the size of a wagon. As far as Jonas could see the wall was lined with battlements and armed men walked it with vigilance. But what really amazed Jonas was that he could see an even larger wall behind it. It looked to be over forty paces high, standing like a cliff, impenetrable and indestructible. Jonas, peering ahead of the column, saw that the gate was open and the knights were already moving inside.

“This is incredible,” Fil muttered.

“Wait until you see inside those gates,” Landon said. “This is just the outer wall.”

As they neared the gate Jonas noticed the huge gate house. It looked like it had the strength of a small mountain. The gate itself was built from cut timbers each the size of a large man and laced together with solid bands of black steel. It was so immense that Jonas wondered how it was opened and closed.

But it was the scene beyond the gate that really caught the boys’ attention. Landon had not exaggerated.
 
There was an expanse of flat completely empty land well over a hundred paces wide. At the edge of that was a small stone wall about waist high that formed a perimeter around a moat that stretched all the way flush to the inner wall. The stone path they were on led to a tremendous bridge made of stone spanning fifty paces across the expanse of water before merging into an open landing twice as big as the first.

Jonas swept his eyes over the impressive site and for the first time on his travels he was speechless.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Landon said, smiling at the astonished boys. “That there,” he said, pointing to the empty land separating the first wall from the moat, “is the killing ground. Anyone that manages to make it over the wall or through the gate, will bunch up here before the moat or bridge where they will face the onslaught of spearmen and archers.”

The boys, still speechless, slowly looked around not wanting to miss a thing.

The moat was filled with gently flowing dark water and was easily fifty paces wide. Jonas stood up, craning to look over the side of the bridge to the water below, but it was too dark and deep. The bridge itself was over twenty paces wide and the large column of knights and Landon’s merchant caravan easily fit across it.

The wagon came to a halt as the knights were funneling into the large inner gate. Jonas was able to briefly view the face of the gate as it swung open, allowing the knights to continue into the heart of the city. The front of the inner gate was covered in sheets of black steel and in the very center was the Finarthian symbol, the fist in front of the shining sun, made from a silvery metal that sparkled in the sun. The symbol was breathtakingly beautiful and obviously made by a master craftsman. And it was giant, as big around as a frost giant’s shield.

“How did they get all this water in here?” Fil asked.

“Master engineers diverted the Talem River. It flows in from the north side and makes a U shaped path around the city where it is then channeled back to its normal course,” Landon explained.

“But how,” Jonas began.

“Magic,” Landon interjected. “It was the court wizard’s father who created the moat eighty years ago,” Landon continued. “I do not know specifically how it was done, as engineering and magic are not included in my talents.”

“What is a court wizard?” Jonas asked.

“The skill of magic is very rare and most do not have the time, tenacity, nor the gold to master the studies needed to wield magic. Most kings can provide the funding and time that wizards require. It is a mutually beneficial relationship, for a king’s power increases with a loyal wizard at his side. Usually, as it is here in Finarth, the court wizard is a lord who passes on his skill to his sons so that the connection with the royal family continues. They swear loyalty to their kings and their relationship is a bond of trust. King Kromm of Tarsis also has a court wizard.”

“I see,” Jonas replied, eagerly taking in Landon’s words.

Once they entered the city Jonas was assaulted with so much activity and noise that he couldn’t focus on any one spot. His head buzzed with the sounds and smells of the bustling city. People were everywhere, walking the cobble stone roads, buying and selling goods in the markets that seemed to line every street. The buildings were made of stone and wood and some were so magnificent that they had potted plants and flowering roses and other plants that Jonas had never seen. And the massive structures weren’t just one level, they climbed as high as trees and many had small balconies and various statues and carvings adorning them.