Chapter 3 #4
The knight’s lips twitched, as if he had more to say, but Riftan’s menacing voice forced his mouth shut. A heavy silence shrouded the camp, the crackle of burning firewood the only sound until one of the knights finally spoke. His tone was blithe, almost flippant.
“I agree with the commander,” he said, scratching his head. “I don’t want to enter the capital looking like a rain-drenched mongrel. Three years we fought in that campaign! At least let us return in shining armor.”
“Fool!” Ricaydo scowled. “Are appearances all you care about?”
“Sir Hebaron has a point, Sir Ursuline.” Ruth, who had been watching from the shadows, stepped forward to join them. “Why not use this opportunity to show the capital that the Remdragon Knights are not to be trifled with?”
Hebaron Nirtha triumphantly raised his chin. “See? Even our sorcerer says I’m right.”
“For now, we shall watch where the wind blows,” Ruth said to appease Ricaydo. “There may yet be time before the rains begin.”
The mood lightened, and Maxi quietly released her breath. From their conversation, it was clear that their detour to the Duchy of Croyso had significantly delayed their journey to the capital.
Located at the southwestern end of the Roviden Continent, Anatol was on a small peninsula that jutted out into the Issyrian Ocean like a serpent’s head.
Maxi vaguely remembered hearing that the land was surrounded by rugged mountains and bordered by a vast ocean to the south.
Drachium, the royal capital of Wedon, was located in the northwestern corner of the kingdom, far north of Anatol.
The fastest way to reach Drachium from Aranthal, where the knights fought in the Dragon Campaign, was to follow the Yserium River upstream.
Maxi’s knowledge of geography was limited at best, but it was not difficult to see that they were taking a circuitous route because of her.
If King Reuben was angry with Riftan and the Remdragon Knights, it would be her fault.
Maxi understood why Sir Ursuline was so anxious to reach the capital. Riftan had turned down King Reuben’s offer of the princess’s hand in marriage, and now he ignored the king’s summons, which was intended to honor his victory in the Dragon Campaign. Her guts twisted.
It can’t be because of me. There must be some other reason. What kind of knight would disobey a king’s summons just to bring his wife home?
She dismissed her initial worries. It was simply absurd to think that Riftan had gone to such lengths for her.
In this age of lords, the power of kings had declined; the lords owned vast tracts of lands, and the manpower required to maintain those holdings often exerted greater influence than that of kings.
But unlike the monarchs of the other six kingdoms, the King of Wedon still held considerable power.
King Reuben III had earned the fealty of hundreds of high-ranking knights through displays of sheer might.
It was implausible that Riftan would shirk his duties to such a king just for her.
“Come,” said a knight who had carved a wheel of cheese while the others argued. “There’s no need to tire ourselves with fruitless arguments. Let us eat.”
As the knight distributed pieces of cheese, Riftan passed Maxi a cup of wine. She drank it to wash down the dry bread that she had already come to loathe. After a dinner of salted meat, bread, and cheese, she stepped back into the carriage.
Despite her exhaustion, she could not fall asleep. Her thoughts wandered to the following evening, when she would arrive at her new home. What would Anatol be like? Just a few days ago, she had been trembling in fear. Now a sliver of hope flickered in her heart.
Perhaps I’ll be able to start a new life.
Fearing disappointment, Maxi suppressed her fragile hope.
My good fortune won’t last forever.
Not only had she escaped the threat of divorce, but she had also broken free of her father. And her fearsome husband was not a heartless man at all—on the contrary, he was kind. It was too many good things all at once, and Maxi knew that the goddess of fortune seldom smiled.
Pulling the blanket up to her neck, she resolved to be brave, come what may.
—
The sun was at its zenith when they arrived at the foot of the mountains the following day.
A narrow road led into the valley, where it was guarded by a small watchtower.
Four sentries hastily came out to greet the knights before leading them to a small pavilion, where they were able to sit at a table for a proper meal of hot stew and roast potatoes.
After sating their hunger, they rode on again.
They decided to take the most direct route to Anatol in hopes of arriving before sundown, which meant that Maxi had to step out of the carriage and ride with Riftan.
She had ridden ponies before, but never a warhorse.
Perched awkwardly in front of Riftan, she nervously gripped the saddle.
Riftan locked an arm around her waist and drew her close against him.
“It’s a shortcut, so it’ll be a bumpy ride. Lean on me if you want to rest.”
Maxi did not want to be a burden, but with her riding skills lacking, it was impossible not to hold on to him as they rode through the mountains.
She desperately clung to the arm around her waist, certain that she would fall off the horse at any moment.
But at no point did Riftan utter a single unkind word.
After they had been riding awhile, a knight at the lead of their formation shouted down the line.
“Commander! There are five werewolves about two thradions up the road!”
The other knights drew their swords. Paralyzed with fear, Maxi gripped Riftan’s arm, her knuckles bone white.
“You’d better not make me take care of it!” Riftan bellowed to the knights.
“Of course not, Commander!” said Hebaron. “I’ve been itching for some action.”
With that, he charged forward, and up ahead the snarls of werewolves could be heard. Maxi trembled in terror, and Riftan pulled her close, allowing her to bury her face in his chest.
“It’ll be over soon,” Riftan said, his tone firm but soothing. “Keep your eyes closed.”
Maxi shut her eyes and pressed her hands to her ears, but she could not block out the sound of clashing swords and the echoing bestial roars.
“Commander! Above you!”
Maxi looked up reflexively and shrieked.
Quick as lightning, a dark-furred monster with a humanoid body and the head of a wolf jumped from its branch, pouncing at their horse.
But before the creature could reach them, Riftan sliced it cleanly in half midjump.
Maxi found herself looking down at the werewolf’s bloody corpse, unable to comprehend what had happened.
Riftan, his cloak splattered with blood, clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Can’t you even count, Gabel? There were six, not five.”
Gabel, the knight who had scouted ahead, scratched his head in shame. “These are black werewolves…. Some can use concealment spells….”
Riftan snorted and spurred his horse forward. Werewolves lay dead everywhere, their battered and broken corpses sprawled over tree roots that protruded from the ground like coiled snakes. With practiced indifference, the knights wiped their swords clean and remounted their horses.
Their incredible strength shook Maxi to her core. She had read about werewolves many years ago, and she knew that they had bones as hard as cast iron and skin as tough as chain mail. They were difficult to kill, even with swords of steel. Yet Riftan’s blade had split one such monster in two.
“We should hurry. There might be more of them around,” said Ruth, scanning the area.
The knights nodded and urged their horses into a gallop along the sloping path.
Maxi clenched her teeth to stop them from biting her tongue.
For countless hours, they rode over rocky, thickly wooded mountain paths.
When they finally cleared the peak, Maxi was greeted with a breathtaking view.
She was spellbound. Beyond the wide-open plains lay a sizable village, enclosed and protected by gray stone walls.
“That is my land, Anatol,” said Riftan, pointing at the village. “Our people are mostly mercenaries or miners. There are serfs, too, but the land is ill suited for cultivation, so they mostly raise sheep, chickens, and goats.”
As she listened, Maxi surveyed her new home.
Pastures sprawled before a towering gate, and a precipitous mountain overlooked the village.
On the mountainside, an enormous, golem-shaped fortress jutted out from the rock.
Calypse Castle, solitary and intimidating in its immensity, reminded her of Riftan.
“It may not seem luxurious on the outside, but the castle is quite nice on the inside.” Riftan sounded nervous as he spoke of his home. “And compared to most castles, it’s of a decent size.”
Maxi turned to him with incredulous eyes.
The stone fortress covered half the mountain!
Was this what he considered a merely “decent size”?
Perhaps Riftan was comparing his castle to Croyso Castle, which was twice as large and built in the spectacular architectural style of the fallen Roemian Empire.
“We can renovate the interior if it isn’t to your liking,” Riftan continued uneasily.
“I can order furnishings to make the castle as splendid as your father’s, though it won’t be easy to change the exterior.
The castle may look dreary on the outside, but that can’t be helped, damn it!
There are a lot of monsters this far south, so… ”
“A-Are there many m-monsters?” Maxi asked in alarm.
Riftan groaned and rubbed his face with one hand.
“There’s nothing for you to worry about!
You see how tall those walls are? They were the first thing I built when I was granted this land.
Years of construction went into them, all for the sake of protecting the village. No monster can set foot inside.”