Chapter 3: blood and death
Our heroes trudge forward, the boy who became a scholar at the age of 15, and a princess on the run. The ancient road cracked and pale with age, the forest green and lush. Every foot step echoing into infinity. The bandits of the wood wait, they will get their chance.
'I don't get him', the princess thinks puzzled, 'he has not so much as looked at me, men always seem to either foam at the mouth when they see me. Like a wolf in heat. He however is stone'. "Why are you not staring at my tits" he coughed like he has something in his throat "i am a gentleman, and why do you ask" "i don't know, it just that whenever i go traveling with men they try to get in my pants" not that i would mind, tall, polite, smart, strong, and just a little unusual. I have had far worse boyfriends, i wonder where he comes from.
I hope she doesn't notice my blush, i don't have any problem talking to girls, any more anyway, but when it comes to the matters of the heart (or loins) i am speechless. She is going to speak again, please don't ask if i ever stolen a girls panties as a teen (i didn't!) "Where are you from" ahh an easy question. "I am from a small village called dogwood acres. It is an apple farming community mostly. I lived there with my mother, and sister for 12 years before going to university. I was always a very bright boy. We are yeomen, not exactly rich or poor, my father was an equestrian hoplite and he taught me of the important things in life. Being a good man, keeping your promises, defending others, and of justice" she seemed puzzled "us Iowans thought that all that remained across the Mississippi were wild men and Vikings?" "For the most part ja, but we sylvanians have been changing that. Every day a new tribe joins us, or is eradicated for the unthinkables" "unthinkables?" "Crimes that no man is allowed to commit and live. Slavery and cannibalism mostly. Some of the tribes are rather fascinating, like the Gullah..." what is that?
"Hello gentle man, lady, I and my boyz have been watching you. Now we have not seen a bitch in a long time. Give her up and anything of valuable you may be carrying and me may spare you". 4 of them i think, 3 spears, one ax, Appalachian originally from the accent, though not one of their raiders. They are just carrion that come out of the mountains some time ago looking for easy pickings. "Sam, stay calm. I will not let anything happen to you" she is clearly freaked out but conceals it well. I wish i was in my armor, but the leather vest is good protection. My spear and crossbow are on the horse, i have my shete, shield, and helm. Not much but better than anything they are wearing, one of them is wearing a bucking loincloth. I shift my weight on my left foot "listen gents, we don't" i sprint forward, attacking mid speech, oldest trick in the book. I push the first one over with my shield, and i headbutt the other one cracking bone with an audible crack. Sam runs the horse to grab the crossbow, the asshole with the ax tries to stop her. Focus on the closer ones, the spearman tries a jab but i uses my shield to deflect it, getting into the space where it is no longer useful. I stab him in the gut, turning to the other one as he tries to get back up. 'Should have worn a helmet' i cleave his skull in two. The one i headbutted is too busy with the pain in his jaw to be a threat. Sam had drawn her shete and was dodging the clumsy ax blows. I quickly get my shield in front of the ax before it builds momentum, the bandit went down like a sack after i cut his head off.
I treated his injury, i would rather kill him but i have some question. "I have 3 simple questions, every time you don't answer i will break a rib. Who is the boss?" "Thuck yth bastshert" a short concise punch "again," "othk, hish name isth iron hanth. Toughsts sucker in thish place" "how many?" "thirthy, maybthy." "Where?" "I doth know, heth movths around" i think he is sincere about that. "Thank you, sorry about the arm" CRUNCH.
"What the FUCK" i can't believe this he took on 4 men alone and won, "how did you do that, and why did you break his arm". He looked in my eyes, i have never seen such chill "my father taught me to fight, they are hardly Northman huscarls. As for the man's arm, he is a con that by the way is the slang that we use for criminals, and cannibals. Con for convict and consumer, or decepticon for the few that remember what they are. Breaking his arm is the least i can do" from what i have seen of thun on this journey is that of a quiet, kind, and harmless young man. Now i see, as soft as equestrians are they have a core of iron.
A week later
Since the attack me and Sam have grown closer, it is like she was hesitant to trust me before. The equestrian outpost was a modest affair by modern standards, a palisade, truck garden, armory, and a small trading post. The first thing i notice is how few men are there. The old, the young, and the infirmed, i had no idea it was that bad. For the able bodied men to be stripped from an isolated village like this. The 2 soldiers that stand at the gate call out "stand and be recognized" sylvanians may not be that formal but some ceremony is sometimes called for "i am thunderhoof of dogwood acres, equestrian and scholar, i am escorting the lady Samantha to the city of fillydelphia to get her engagement broken by the high master. We have information that may be of interest to your commander". The guards look at each other worried, "you may stay in the barracks, i would be careful though, and some timberjack auxiliary troops are also staying there. They are not the most civilized folk"
The timberjacks won't stop staring at me. It is like they have never seen a girl before. From what i gather from what thun has told me, they are the descendants of lumberjacks that survived in the New York wilderness. They are one of the countless member tribes of the principality, joined for greater opportunity and protection from their Viking neighbors. They mostly wear flannel or plaid shirts with jeans and the knee high boots that seem ubiquitous here. What frightens me are the axes, hand axes, throwing axes, hatchets, tomahawks, felling axes, battle axes, pole axes, Dane axes, and many others. They carry axes of every possible variation and type, even their knives look like it can double as an axe. Thun seemed unperturbed, "they are not that bad, besides their can't be more than, ten, 15 at most" i took solace in his confidence, i trust his judgment.
It has been a while since i have seen a timberjack, nice enough as tribes go. Still, i should make something clear "listen you half civilized vagabonds, the women is off limits. Try anything and i will feed you your own intestines as you are still alive. But i think it will not come to that, after all you are MEN among MEN" they start shouting "YEAH" if there is anything that timberjacks love, it is their own masculinity. They know when it is not bright to buck with someone. All but one, a rather scraggly looking officer. Common custom is for an auxiliary officer to be from the core regions of our little empire, to keep some of the more… uncouth elements in check. This sometimes means that the officers are rich gentry's children, this is not always the case. When a particularly trustworthy individual is chosen by the men to lead them, well you can't very well tell them no. "I will fuck with anyone i like" his accent points to Charleston. A wretched hive of scum if there ever was one, the port town is divided among prominent merchant families, the Italians, the Irish, the Russians, and many others. A sort of bizarre hybrid of organized crime syndicate and pirate kingdom. Italian most likely. They seem to always wear those ridiculous suits, ties, and hats. "I bet she screams real loud, eh boys" the timberjacks try to ignore him. Time for a lesson, the first punch is to the gut, as he bends over in an involuntary response i grab the back of his suit coat and pull, sticking out a leg as i do so. He hit the floor in an undignified sprawl, Sam then walked up to him and kicked him when he was down, and not that i blame her, bucking perv. The timberjacks cheer seemed to fill the room with an almost physical presence, it seems no one really likes him, "you just earned yourself a place at our fire, we will tell tall tales, eat mash and sausage, and drink moonshine all night", ooh i love timberjack bonfires, i can't wait, but first.
What a dump, i may be bias growing up in the Iowa royal palace, but come on. The National Guard commander's private chambers are a cluttered mess of papers, weapons, and various dishware, i have seen beggar's homes that are cleaner than this after i looked at the bed i wish i didn't think that . "how long has…" the soldier looked back with a sad look in his eyes "too long, he can't move from that spot. With iron hans attacking caravans and settlements, with the war. There can be no worse time". The commander, was dying.
Well this changes my plans, with their commander dying i can hardly take the garrison out to face hans. It is a bit odd his injury, the infection shouldn't have gotten this far if he had it cleaned right away. Time to change tactics. The bonfire was in full swing, the food was exquisite. soft buttered bread with a nice crisp crust, pork with just enough pink in the middle to make it chewy, mashed potato that is as soft as clouds, and great beer. Or so i hear, i don't drink the stuff, milk and cider for me. I tell tales of great men, ancient gods, warlords, and kings, of xena and hercules, of lincoln and roosevelt (both of them, what am i, an ignorant brute). And that is how chief tecumseh of the pawnee built and lost an empire. "Whoo" "Yeah" "tell other" "friends, and other less reputable sorts" they chuckled at that "as much as i love telling stories, i must be going." they clapped so loud i thought i may go deaf, now to talk with their leader. He is a big man, even among his giant brothers, he carries what looks like a halberd cut down so it would fit better in the skirmishing style that timberjacks favor. He wears green plaid with leather leggings and a chainmail vest, he has a neatly trimmed beard, and scars of every type. His voice is actually rather soft spoken "great chief jack (really) i see that you are bored of garrison duty" his face grew dark "you are right stanger, there are few women here, the men are in little mood to brawl, the drink though good is little, and all we do is drill. Not even very good drills" this is the man i need "sire (no harm in a little flattery) i have just what you need"
Say what you want about timberjacks, they are fine trackers. They are dressed in their fighting day best, armor of leather, wood-plate, jacks, chain mail, scale mail, and even some plate. The axes shining brightly with sharpened heads, helmets as varied as the armor, all that is uniform about them is their faces, all serious and professional. They managed find the tracks of the bandits that attacked me and sam earlier "jack, shouldn't your 'captain' know about this" he guffawed "fuck him, he is a cowardly thug. He is not a real man" interesting "why don't you just kick him out, you can do that." he sighed "i tried, the message was delayed with the wounding of commander walter."
I don't know why thun asked me to do this, i agree that charlston ship rat is suspicious, but a traitor. Besides i am no spy, i am not even very stealthy. From what jack told us the "little shit" spends most of his time at the tavern hitting on girls that are either too young, too hot, or prostitutes, even too young, hot prostitutes. Let's see, thun said that i have to look for something that looks like a vial, plant, or ointment. "What is…" *creack* "what are you doing here"
The camp is... odd. There is the usual tents and pre-fallout structures, what is unusual is the equipment. They are a bit too uniform, the spears are not made of scrap steel like a lot of the cheaper stuff, the swords are well kept, they even have shields. The outlaws must have a supply source. Wait, is that iron hans? Hans is almost as big as i am, better muscle definition, and blond hair. What really surprises me is what he is wearing. Plate armor is not crippling expensive, but it is not that cheap. Armor manufactures only makes so many to maintain scarcity and the best is custom made, and this suit clearly is. The armor does only cover as much as it needs to to maintain flexibility, and the biggest surprise is the runes. Only 2 people's wear runes, dawi and northmen. What is he doing here?