“Dur yihi mani quem wer esses fios er. Dur ghaim ha deveria meg da pozoves,” Alarick told Levon in a drawled voice.
(You don’t know who this is. You should have called me before.)
The big man shivered at the bad omen.
Alarick clicked his tongue at him and turned to the ‘whore’ and grabbing the trembling man by the elbows to forcefully turn him around.
Severn was a tall, eighteen year old boy that was all angles, bones sticking out everywhere. Curly black hair and bluish eyes. He was one of the princes of Gytha, a country south of Maud.
He looked more like the Knight than the King, more manly than other Gythaeans in his manners, but more wicked as well. They said he ran away from his family to become a whore but everybody doubts it’s the truth and that rumor didn’t last long.
Soon after, he started to work for the Temple of Cyndel owned by his brother, Prince Erriene.
“Xiath Alarick,” Severn said shakily in Maudinian with such a weird accent he almost didn’t grasp it. Scared blue eyes looked up at him.
(King Alarick)
“Severn, wo vas du nima karata haikalin bapart?” Alarick spat, angry. “Wie er dun mae dy sheni bror?”
(Severn, what are you doing so far from the temple?)
(Where is your brother?)
Severn just shook his head, not understanding a word and searched his clothes for something. He brought out a letter and thrusted it in Alarick’s hands.
“Erriene sent me,” Severn said in his own language, and Alarick snatched up the letter.
Whatever it is that made Erriene send Severn into Maud’s fortress just to give him a letter was probably worth to read.
The letter was a simple folded paper that said ‘King Alarick Lyall Nirmolak, Son of Randal’ in the front and it was sealed with golden wax. Only Erriene called him by this long, complete title.
He opened it and was faced with a maudinian that Erriene had managed to look soft even when written.
Alarick never understood his need to do that, but he supposed that, like everything the prince did, it was designed to throw him off his guard.
The letter opened with a simple ‘Alarick,’
It was followed by,
‘Dir er a feum mi bruidhinn det am bidh zo agam ri du, a thaobh Tìr Kalise. Du leis na tha agam ri wo am ha zo run; a ràdh du gabh i sibh. Den seo gus tele ni a taua, mea. Du bidh zo e le zo iinei dis ri meg.’
(There is a very important matter that I need to discuss with you, in regards of the Kalise Land. You will certainly be pleased with what I have to offer; in case you accept this mission. It cannot be said in a letter, however. You need to be here to discuss this with me.)
The ink got thick, as if it took a lot of time for Erriene to spell the words.
‘Du lava peita Alarick, det du luwo eb ma afai uiga am luwo reve kas phelp zo. Ach mar den duine ort, iarrainn, am bidh du.’
(You must know Alarick, that you would be the last person I would ever ask help to. But as it happens now, unfortunately, I need you.)
‘Molim vas thigibh.’
(Please come.)
Then, in quick sentences, as he seemed to get back to his element.
‘PS: Am fada nur mura peanas fi du oir dhut Severn rof mhisean, don teampall du meg gessam awh shi lyon bagairt. Den fada nur mura nik fo du zo nach mhi zo ve bapart ronf Maud. Du kwon han er nie toirt, kame ress du let Levon het mesa aige.’
(PS: I would be very grateful if you didn’t punish Severn for trespassing, as giving you my message was his only mission. It would be very kind of you to escort him to the temple from Maud. You know he is no threat, make sure you tell Levon the same thing.)
‘Am liw, fo dearbh, nach du a rinn val dun teagamh, a ràdh du non te twan zo ais thu e fhein. Am ha e reyv thugam wors am deama meger, thiw e God bhith. Fo thusa, du bidhzo eb ere zo gheibh ti. Nad am aisig du, niet a feumaidh, nietr a krigga. Du agus meg Severn, du teg a bhami seo.’
(I will, of course, give you a refund for your troubles, in case you do not want to hear about the mission. I have a very priceless sword I made myself, with the God’s blessings. Of course, you need to be here to receive it. And I meant you, not a messenger, nor a soldier. You bring me Severn, you get a shiny gift.)
Alarick growled at the letter, even as his heart ached in memory of the familiar insults. He wasn't an animal nor a stupid brainless beast.
Erriene must be itching for trouble; he could almost see his little smirk growing as he wrote these words.
‘Ghne, aobhar Maudian’s cuiribh zo e mele dregen, kema ros nieter fo dun krigga, nietr du, yla shan no Severn. Ewe ha a cruet det am lamh tha zo latha, nad am ruse sethe nek, do lewe sa du, twan zo ha chall et yda. Tis lam eb e raidh zo osle e nase zo.’
(Furthermore, knowing Maudian’s inclinations to the male gender, make sure none of your soldiers, nor you, lay hands on Severn. We have a truce that I wouldn’t want to break, and I am sure these men, as well as you, want to have heirs one day. It would be a shame to lose the means to.)
As if he would touch Severn’s scrawny arse, Alarick snorted. It ended with a quick elegant scrawl.
‘S deimhinn,
Prince Erriene Ycel Kyslie.
(Sincerely)
Alarick frowned, pursed his lips, then glanced to the whores.
The letter hadn’t mentioned them. He shook his head and called the soldiers.
“Take the women to the dungeons. I’ll take Severn to the Cyndel Temple.”
Severn gasped in outrage.
“No! They will come with me to the temple!” Severn said, and the soldiers looked at him in confusion, and then to Alarick for further instructions.
Severn turned his pleas to him too. “They were lost, trying to reach the Temple of Cyndel, I swore to show them the way, please!”
Alarick furrowed his eyebrows at the Gythaean, his temper rising.
“Severn, they’re going to the dungeons and that is my word. Do not challenge it.”
Severn looked at him in defiance.
“Am ayt dweud aman Erriene!” he squeaked in faulty maudinian.
(I will tell Erriene!)
Alarick huffed like a very pissed old lion.
After settling Severn and the whores in a wooden cell connected to the horses, Alarick ordered his soldiers to get them some blankets so they wouldn't freeze and went to gather some personal supplies from his own stash that he usually take on every long trip.He stopped at the library to warn his father he was leaving for some time.“Han zove uvek agus dur liga, como ele inide hulemi,” Randal said from his seated position on the big poltro.(He calls and you go, just like always.)The powerful stature and posture hadn’t left his father, though his hair was getting whiter every year, along with the sadness and despair in his black eyes. Alarick remembered this poltrone, it was his mamkka’s favorite.He shook his head from the memories, refusing to be caught in the same depression, refusing to look at the portrait on the wall beside his father.“Yimesilali asifelagi. Han neberi ha teria conhece nu ar. Dur fost iarraidh alehi,” he said, walking away from the comforting warmth of the plac
When Alarick told Thorne that he had decided to hear Erriene out about this mission, the man winced in sympathy.Thorne, who had a long hair that he kept tied and a black beard that he trims, trotted his horse along with him in the front line. He supposed his party of soldiers was too big, but you never knew with Southerners.It wasn’t as if he was showing off.Maybe he was, a little.“Det taj aquele, hein?” Thorne said, walking on thin ice.(That one, eh?)No one ever knew where the line crossed when the subject was Erriene.Alarick was confused himself.One thing was for sure, no Northerner ever wanted to speak with Prince Erriene.It wasn’t because he was rude and spoke nasty about them, no.It was because the prince could be extremely pleasant, and use that against you. Also because he could manipulate and twist your own words when he wanted something from you, and he would never tell you what it was.Any other person like that wouldn’t survive a week in Maud because they tended t
Alarick’s party arrived in the Temple of Cyndel with very low panic from the citizens. Actually, most of them bowed for him, and even said some Maudinian words of praising. Interesting, but supposedly expected since Cyndel was joined at the hip with Maud.The temple was a big building made to train druids and hunters, different from the ones where priests studied the old books.Alarick saw the people gathered in front of the temple moving inside, while some of them called Erriene's name. They seemed wary but trusting all at the same.Alarick watched a familiar figure walking from inside of the temple, and the afternoon sun lazily shone over the silver white hair.Those violet suspicious eyes narrowed over the amount of soldiers Alarick brought along, but Erriene’s expression and slight nod said he was already expecting it.The regal creature waited for everyone to settle with a patience Alarick didn’t had.Erriene was always so proper, so put together. The right rings on his long ar
They entered through the temple and Alarick noted that a lot of people from Gytha were laying around, completely at ease.Something else he noted was that almost all of them had bruises and wounds all over, some still in bandages- still healing.Erriene showed the dinner spread around in low tables by the floor to the soldiers and Alarick’s mouth watered at the sight of food.They ate in the travel, alright; they were good hunters. But it was something else when it was done with vegetables, herbs and whatever it was that Erriene and the others put in the food to make it smell like that.“Don’t worry. You are free to eat now if you want to, but I saved some for you,” the Prince said, an urgent tone in his voice. “I wish we could talk first, if you don’t mind.”Alarick looked at him. “I don’t mind. Let’s get this over with.”The temple was a very solid construction made of wood and rock, and the floors were clean as if they spent the whole day mopping it. It was dirtier now with the so
Alarick nodded slowly while Erriene trembled and tried to gather a little of his dignity. A troll invasion was more like a plague taking over than anything else. They were dumb, ugly,hairy creatures that moved around forests, and when they grouped together, usually to the command of a big leader, they went to the bigger cities to find food. That could be anything from bread to vegetables and meat. The more crazy ones would even eat humans, but it wasn’t their preference. Trolls could take over an entire country given the time and the right luck. They reproduced fast and the younger ones were ready to fight pretty quickly. It was unlucky that they caught the little villages because they couldn’t defend themselves. A city would handle it better. If the invasion of the land wasn’t contained fast, they would leak to other places and then it would be impossible to track them all. On the other hand, Alarick thought troll
Two YearsAgo… Alarick found a nymph on his garden. Or so he thought, at first glance. It had been a tough afternoon; his father hadn’t joined them at yet another hunt for a couple of ogres trespassing the forest ever since his mamkkadisappeared a couple months back. He was angry at the world and depressed. They both were. But instead of locking himself in one of the rooms in the fortress like his father, he was out there, raising his sword and killing everything in his way. They may be father and son and share the same blood, but right now, the both of them have different ways in coping up with the devastating loss. His clothes were damp, there was mud in them, and he’d been circling around the fortress trying to find anything he could show his wrath toso it wasn’t too far off to saythatstumbling acros
Back to the present… “Clay-brained orc,” Errienemurmured to the empty room. He closed his eyes and breathed one more time. Alarick’s scent was still in the room, making his head spin. A leathery smell, mixed with an animalistic scent. It had something to do with his confidence. Alarick had a presence that often muddled his string of thoughts. His figure much reminded him of Fourthly, the ogre that worked in the well who had a thick neck and broad shoulders like a bull. Alarick was built like a strong bull, but way taller than Fourthly. A giant. A young, reckless and inconsequential giant bull. It unnerved Erriene how tall he was, how strong he was, how he treated him like he owned him. Alarick wasn’t ugly exactly. Far from it actually. It shouldn’t matter to him but one may argue his strong jaw and straight nose were attractive, if one was slightly drunk. Or so he wan
Erriene stood in front of Alarick, hands firmly clasped behind his back as his soldiers stood outside ready to leave.“Is it done?” Alarick asked, watching the blue magic that surrounded them minutes ago disappearing.The words were a little tricky to say, unknown to him, and the thrill he felt at his guts when the magic circled him and Erriene was overwhelming, in a good way.Erriene had handed him the contract and he had dropped a little of blood on it, and it was a little unusual with land binding contracts. But he would send it to Maud, and it would be protected.“Yes, yes,” Erriene said with impatience. “Now tell me, why are there soldiers all over the temple?”Alarick had spent the last two days sending letters to Maud to let his father know of his plans, and waiting for a good amount of soldiers to travel to the Temple of Cyndel. He had sent some men around to find the trolls’ positions