Sir Rik De Weer

Duke of Scaldingport

'One-eyed Rook'

On the Queen's orders:

Thirty feet of thick wall

I

-Reckon they will-

10th month of year 195 NC

Five hundred meters from the still standing south portion of the Mid Bridge, just over a kilometer from Khan Burzin's old camp, and immediately after the junction leading to the Main Gates.

Issir's Eagle

Duke Rik De Weer's entourage*

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*Mostly former 'Forestfort's Young Crows'.

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The turbaned sailor –straight out of the Khanate's steppes- stood on the islet in the river with one foot still on the boat –the islet was used to anchor the massive mid-support bridge arches, and made an obscene gesture towards them. It had lingered heavy in Rik's mind, this gesture of the Horselord… or perhaps he'd been a Cofol. The belief behind it, coupled with the sight of the expansive river filled the Duke with unease. For several more large boats were maneuvering through the damaged section of the Bridge, making their way upriver, past the Naval Yards and towards the Docks near the North Tower.

There, the ruins of the big walls were still present, with the North Gates only partially restored due to the chaos that had befallen the once mighty city –yet to access them, one had to battle through a narrow strip of mud-covered land against a nasty contingent of Mutobo's Coast Marines, whilst flanked by the thick parapets of the walls on his right and the riverbanks on his left.

A recipe for disaster.

So hitherto Rik couldn't perceive another way to strangle Pourem and wipe the confidence off of his brazen men's faces, before the tides of war turned on them or something more preposterous happened. Three-four months earlier Gust would have taken this task, six months prior Sir Walter Van Oord, but instead of them here Rik stood, a Duke and General to the rescue; there to right the sinking ship and fulfill a delusional queen's ambitions.

"Gel De Moss reported the Desert Crows machines got stuck in the mud again. I had Struder dispatch a rider there and Sergeant Frank Lambert kicked him off the horse, then rode back to Struder to give him the business," Sir Adrian Hakker told him after quickly reading the missive on top of his horse. They had spun around to return to their camp, with Rik riding ahead of the others deep in thought and his tired eyes watching the capital's walls looming at the distance. Another lighting came, the skies changing color and then the roar of thunder rang over their heads.

The rain started falling again.

Cold rain, it hurt your skin.

Rik grimaced and stopped his horse. He turned on the saddle to wait for Adrian. He took a towel from Damian Varenhorst in order to wipe his drenched face. The teenager had followed them the moment Rik was 'asked' to take command of the armies and had finally caught up with the Duke's people on the road. Just beyond the junction –the other road coming from Eagle's Bridge via the Delta Market- he could see Viscount De Moss' banners and the soldiers moving in and out of the large camp. Ard was Gel's kin from the De Moss of Rusted, with Gel having the more campaign experience between the two of them and Ard the title. The latter finally given to him by Elsanne.

"You can't break down these walls with bolts, even if you use Scorpios, but you can scare the living hells out of a narrow boat journeying upriver," Rik grunted. "Which is why I insisted Struder should stay near the banks and fire at them boats, force the bastards to hug Lord Anker's side of the river. They seem to fear their side more than ours!"

"They usually come at night, Lord Crow," Sir Adrian replied. "And Anker won't move until he's ready."

"Well, we did. In between a funeral and a plaguing marriage," Rik retorted and crooked his mouth. His eye glanced at the thick walls of the capital once more and then kicked with his legs to get the horse going. Sir Adrian Hakker followed after him with the rest of the Young Crows and Damian Varenhorst.

He set a gentle pace -barely above a stroll, in order to watch the soldiers sitting down inside the Grain Fields, the mud reaching their ankles and looking miserable.

"Proper winter is afoot," the new Duke of Scaldingport rustled and the knight slowly riding next to him nodded once in agreement. "Plenty of early rains. Marching against the walls is suicide."

"We got the wood to build the trebuchets," Sir Adrian noted. "Paul Piat tested the first yesterday." The knight pushed his visor open to clean the water from his eyes. "Fucking rock bounced off the wall and rolled down the incline. It went too-blasted low!"

The foundations of the capital's walls stood on the gentle incline over twenty meters higher than the plains and while they dipped to a flat basin later –further to the east between the two rivers, it did the attackers camped before the west gates no favors.

"Robert should have attacked the east gates," Rik hissed still furious with the Queen's confusing orders that had jumbled up the battle plan. "Not head for Eagle's Nest to talk with Merenda! Now we've more mercenaries under the ground and in the hospital than in the blasted field!"

"There's no way Robert would have risked an assault over the moat," Sir Adrian replied and Rik knew his friend was in the right. "Nor any risky action without been given something tangible and more than a promise from the Queen."

"Talking to Merenda could have gone wrong," Rik noted. "But perhaps it was deemed a smaller risk for Sir Crustacean."

"Assuming the intention to fight the Lorians was even there, sire," the knight commented and the Duke grimaced.

"Eh," Rik let out a grunt, as the sight of the soldiers trudging impotently in the mud still bothered him. "Why does he have the men rotting in the field damn it? Come Adrian, let's speak with the Viscount."

The Duke's entourage rode past the junction and reached the first of the two busy camps. Wagons and men moved about, animals and even civilians trying to get favors with the gathered Scalding Sea Lords. Rik spotted Viscount Ard De Moss amidst a cluster of men from Rusted, with the merchant 'Flo' Madan being the most prominent figure of the bunch. Ricard White and Paul Piatt, the engineers, but also a couple of men-at-arms he didn't recognize, and were dressed in heavy armour over blue-colored gambesons. Riverdor colors, Rik thought and stopped his horse some meters from the prematurely balding Viscount.

"Ah, the young Duke," De Moss declared to his audience and smiled at the scowled Rik, who didn't bother dismounting. De Moss was about ten years older than him, in his forties.

"Ard you need to get those men out of the open, else we'll have fever spreading in the camps," Rik started without returning the Viscount's greeting. The title a joke in Scaldingport, until the Queen had given it substance.

"Pourem needs to see us," De Moss replied with a grimace. "Soon, we'll fire the second boulder of the day and then we can all retire for the evening."

Rik had gone past the large trebuchet earlier. "What good will another shot do?" He queried.

"Keep them on edge," the Viscount explained. "Whilst we finish building the rest of the big machines."

"Ah, but of course. There is that. How long will it take?"

"Well, the weather isn't helping I'm told, so sometime after the winter months," De Moss replied with a glance at the two engineers. The Lorian from Raoz, Ricard White, was with the Gallant Dogs, the mercenaries currently stationed near Reinut's Bridge with Mitch De Jaeger's rangers. Hedrick Jagger, out of Tail, had asked to be stationed near Lode, his kin, but the real reason was he didn't want to be anywhere close to Mitch. The Jaggers a cadet branch of the Jaegers of course, but you wouldn't know it as bridging their differences 'is a task for far more patient men than me and with time to lose on top,' his late father used to say. 'I have none of the latter and even if I had, well then… I've brains enough to use on more pleasurable activities!'

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"Almost next summer," Rik noted sarcastically.

"Duke Rik, we are moving as fast we can," the Viscount protested.

"Fast you claim, yet you are not exactly known for it, Ard," Rik retorted in a mocking manner. "By the time you are ready, Anker might cross the river and he has a new bridge to construct first! I wonder, whether we'll be better served to reach out and see to finish this darn siege together."

"The Queen won't see the humor," De Moss said stiffly.

"Because there is none," Rik grunted. "Nor will she enjoy your tardiness Viscount."

"The weather isn't helping," an affronted De Moss replied. "You just complained about the soldiers, my lord Duke. We stand confused as to your intentions."

"Cut the crap, Ard," Rik snapped angrily. "You wouldn't have tried this with my father."

De Moss stood back. "The young Duke is correct. Which is why I've spoken to you frankly."

Rik grimaced, some of those present chuckling at the Viscount's words and then he cast his stare on the newcomers, the two men standing some meters away next to their horses.

"Milord," one of them immediately said upon noticing the Duke's interest. "If I can have a word?"

"Right," De Moss intervened and stepped closer to Rik's horse. "This man is Thomas Meyer, and his friend… a Ridder."

"Alain, milord," the second man-at-arms said.

"You are from Ikete?" Rik asked him. Ridder was a small village north of Riverdor, very close to the large Shrine.

"It's a moniker. Was left with the monk's milord," 'Ridder' replied honestly. "Thomas is from Riverdor."

Rik nodded with a glance at Sir Adrian, who had a thin smile on his lips. They both had the same thought, but Ruud didn't much favor enjoying himself in Riverdor in his later years. Although, a young Ruud could have, Rik pursed his mouth. It would have been many decades in the past and Alain looks to be in his mid-twenties.

Thomas looked older and he made another attempt to speak with the Duke, but the Viscount yet again intervened.

"These young capable men seek a knighthood," De Moss elucidated. "I was thinking of giving them a place in Rusted."

"Um," Rik murmured staring at the two armoured men. "How is Duke Charles, Mister Mayer?"

"The Duke isn't coming yet," Thomas replied. "We wished to fight the Horselords, milord."

"Ah," Rik exclaimed thoughtfully, not convinced. "Yet, here you are with yer horses, partaking in barter."

"Milord," Mayer protested, but Rik cut him off.

"Sir Cramer is hunting Horselords beyond Delta Market," Rik grunted. "Horses are needed there, but hither? Well, not much of a need for riders against these walls, Mister Mayer!"

"Rusted could use some experienced men," De Moss said. "They volunteered, my lord."

"You are confusing the meaning of words Viscount," Rik retorted. "They seek a knighthood you say, yet a knight without property is a drifter. If ye are not seeking to create more Hedge Knights, then you'll have to part with a couple of estates, which you don't have?"

De Moss grimaced. "War has created plenty of vacancies," the Viscount said.

"Not in Rusted, last I checked, your town wasn't involved in any fighting," Rik retorted. "These lands are the Crown's, with Castalor having an interest, which is another matter," he continued. "I don't see the need. Build the machines Ard."

"My Lord," De Moss made another attempt, not to lose face. "The Queen is heading here, perhaps—"

Rik cut him off with a gesture. "The Queen isn't here. This Duke is, and he just spoke on the matter Ard."

De Moss had a sour expression all over his face. "Your wishes are made clear."

"Good," Rik grunted and clicked his tongue to turn his horse around. He had spotted a rider coming down the inclines after exiting the capital's main gates. "Is that an envoi?" He asked the Viscount.

"Eh, I wouldn't know," De Moss muttered still frustrated. "I'll see to find out."

"Leave it. Adrian, ride with me," Rik grunted, not wanting to lose more time. No soon after they started galloping towards the frontlines, one of the two men-at-arms approached them riding on his own horse.

"Mister Ridder," Rik snapped slowing down to wait for the Horselord carrying a white cloth on a raised spear to approach them. "State your purpose. Groveling shan't earn you a title young man."

"I just want to help if I can and staying in Riverdor was a waste of time," a flushed Alain replied riding next to Sir Adrian Hakker. "The whole knighting thing was Thomas' idea milord."

Rik raised his arm to stop their procession amidst the soldiers' lines. He turned on the saddle to perceive Alain's Issir face and his used but well-cared for equipment. All the man owned probably carried on his steed. He cast his sole eye on Sir Hakker and his friend reached for a towel to wipe some of the drizzle from his bearded face, before turning to stare at the nervous man in silence.

"A week," the knight said finally. "He'll help Damian around. You've served with any lords Ridder?"

"Aye," Alain replied. "I was part of Lord Shield's entourage during the Maiden's War."

"That didn't end well for Lord Albert," Adrian noted with a grimace. "But it was some time ago, and folk improve with age. Some folk," he added with a half-grin. "No pay. Food and fodder Mister Ridder."

"It'll do, Sir Knight," Alain agreed with a sigh of relief.

Rik nodded and turned his attention on the arriving colorful Horselord.

"I seek audience with the Issir general," the Horselord announced, his cunning painted eyes scanning the soldiers' lines and equipment.

"The Duke of Scaldingport is present," Sir Adrian cut in and the sergeant who had stopped the envoi stood back.

"I shall speak to the Duke," the Horselord said in passable Common.

"Speak," Rik grunted and the foreign warrior stared at the one-eyed knight in silence. Then he nodded, the mail coif ringing under his soaked turban, and stood back straighter on his adorned saddle.

"The great Vizier wishes," the Horselord started with a small pause. "All machines to be moved away from the walls and the banks of the river."

Adrian gathered moisture from his gums and then stooped to spit next to his horse.

"Is that all?" Rik retorted mockingly.

"Open the road to Delta Market," the Horselord continued.

"How about Eagles Port?" Adrian intervened with plenty of razz of his own.

"It's a serious matter Issir," the Horselord admonished him. "You are standing on Khanate's lands."

"Name is Sir Hakker," Adrian grunted. "How about you drop that flag so we can debate ownership ye slant-eyed chum?"

"Pourem can leave," Rik said. "Get on the boats and sail down the river. I could offer safe passage, but I won't."

"I see," the Horselord replied. "I should add here that the great Vizier has to take measures against unreasonable demands."

"What? The hell is he saying?" Adrian growled.

"You actually believe Pourem has leverage?" Rik cut in with a gesture for Adrian to calm down.

"Several prisoners," the Horselord retorted. He made a grimace. "Of low value since they surrendered, but in numbers one might find something of worth perhaps. The great Vizier has another sixty thousand infidels eating his grain," the Horselord continued. "He'll kill one every hour of the day, each day… until you remove your army, Duke of Scaldingport."

"Pourem will seal his fate," Rik warned, a little stunned at the threat.

"We'll either die with nothing, or in triumph wash all our sins in glory and riches," the Horselord told him indifferently. "I'll place my bets with the great Vizier. The one-eyed Crow is a good knight they say, but this is a siege, my lord. It's a matter of will."

Rik turned to Adrian. "Tell De Moss to fire the trebuchet."

"Is this your answer?" The Horselord asked pensively.

"No. I'll skin and disembowel two for every man or woman you kill," Rik retorted angrily. "You, I'll kill fast, but Pourem I'll keep alive and feed to my father's crows. There, you have my answer."

"Bold words, Lord Crow."

"Nah, say it like it is, man of the Steppe," Rik retorted. "This war has made murderers of us all, but some lines men shouldn't cross, lest be considered animals."

"He'll fire in twenty minutes," the returning Sir Hakker informed him and Rik nodded with a scowl.

The Horselord pursed his mouth, and then turned his horse around to trot through their lines in order to return to the city gates. When he cleared the last of the soldiers, Rik and his men had followed him at a slower pace, the foreign warrior removed the cloth from his spear and then twirled it over his head. A gong was sounded from the distant parapets and Rik spotted commotion on the sturdy Barbican's crenellated walkways. Then a figure dropped, the sound of a body hitting the granite tiles barely audible from the distance, but a collective gasp escaped the thousands of soldiers watching the macabre scene.

Son of a dog.

Rik had instinctively pressed his spurs, urging his horse into motion the instant he realized what was about to unfold. The horse surged forward with a loud neigh, and the Horselord envoi heard him galloping past the astonished soldiers. Turning in the saddle, a little uncertain, he spotted the Duke clad in his dark-grey armour approaching with his sword drawn and attempted to lower his spear.

In less than two seconds, Rik was upon him, ducking beneath the spear and driving the tip of his longsword into the Horselord's face, right between the left cheek and the side of his nose. He then yanked the sword back, blood spraying over both horses, angled the blade parallel to the ground, and with a savage slash swiftly decapitated the mutilated former envoi.

This time, the gasp of outrage came from the packed walls, but the incensed Rik circled the foreign horse, shoving the headless, blood-soaked body off the saddle. He then used the longsword to retrieve the discarded cloth slouching sideways, just as the Horselord's body hit the ground with a resounding thud from the other side.

"They won't take another life," Sir Adrian said with disgust as he rejoined their ranks. Rik, with a scowl marring his gaunt face, twisted his lips, glanced at the young, pale visage of Damian Varenhorst, who hadn't seen the corpse of his father or any other afore, and then responded with a grim, ominous grunt.

"I reckon they will."

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