In Pursuit of Hope (English)

ลำดับตอนที่ #2 : 1: A Knight of No Honor

                1: A Knight of No Honor

            Berna Baveross was a good sight until the coming of wars. Turquoise sea water was replaced by mud and blood, and the sand lied none that still breathed. Only death was there the day General James Dorin arrived at it.

            The sun was going down as it turned the sky into the colour of dancing flame. The rival army stood there at the other side of the cliff which was distanced by the beach. Even the wind blew from that direction with a scent of war. General Dorin was in his early thirtieth year, he came with only a handful of men, yet he did not plan to die on this beautiful battlefield.

            “Set the camp up, we will rest here and as soon as the dawn breaks tomorrow, Sir James of Tamrine and Sir John of Feaugaer will ride with me to the enemy’s camp,” commanded the general, “tonight, you eat well, drink well, and sleep well. Only shame tonight is that there is no option to fuck well, unless you prefer men’s arses.”

            His speech drew so much laugh from his troop, and he was satisfied to see his men being delightful because it meant they are in good morale despite the circumstance they well realized.

            “Another thing, my brave warriors. Don’t forget to shit before riding into battlefield.”

            Warriors under his command started to set up the camp with joy and laughter, so it was done very quickly, also they did not forget to set some traps to prevent the sneaky attack from enemies.

            James Dorin walked through the camp while the night was still young, and finally found a place to get his arse seated. It was a stump near a bonfire lit by one of his men, Henry, so it was henry and his companies who were sitting and drinking around it.

            “Please sit, m’ lord,” one of Henry’s friends, Gobelya welcomed the general when he saw him coming this way, “Henry, hand the general some ale.”

            “Thank you, good fellows,” he took a cup of ale from Henry and drank it outright, “ugh… I guess we’ll never find any worse ale in this whole continent.”

            Robert laughed out loud, then spoke really fast, “Aye m’ lord, even a lowborn like meself ‘as  ne’er poured some’ing as bad into me throat. ‘Tis the war, m’ lord.”

            “Yes, I know war. It has never been good, ever. Still people never stop doing it,” the general drank another cup of it, “this war has lasted for a good hundred years. Don’t look like it is stopping either.”

            Henry sat sown on a stump after he went out for a chicken leg, “Aye, so true. That cata-ploughing something now is a new beast of the battlefield, ‘eard it tore The Keep of Plandai in Aerdin down to dust within three days of siege! That’s ‘orrible.”

            “And now it is coming for The Castle of Red Hills,” General Dorin was worried. He was a good friend to King Aldebert, and now he was on a losing side, “Red Hills, now, comes with poorer defense, and manned with fewer soldiers than the keep in Aerdin. It does not stand a chance against that fucking lucky Farrarge.”

            “Guess it’s Farrargans’ turn now after they had been on the losing side for more than a few decades,” Gobelya also commented on the general’s worries, “only the gods decide who is winning.”

            “Don’t put too much faith in superstitions. You see how it fell into nothing after the end of its era. If gods existed, they would stand with house Cordell, not those O’ Murraghs. Cordell has been serving the five gods for thousands of years as kings of the central continent, but look at us,” General Dorin spoke clearly with his low-key voice. It did not contain any emotion, just a statement, “We have never been on the winning side, not once, since the war started, and now we are losing even more”

            “Our battle here at Berna Baveross looks like the most promising of us being defeated,” said Gobelya. He did it. He did what others dared not. He spoke the harsh truth in front of the general, “no offense, m’ lord, but Sir John of Tamrine has more men, four or five times, I have heard. We can’t win this shite, you knew it from the start. The king sent us here to delay the force from Cerbeau, to buy time for him. This battle is a suicide.”

            “You won’t speak ill of the king, that is my last warning, soldier.” The general threatened his man with sharper voice than he ever uttered. It made Gobelya so afraid that he shivered and moved his arse a little away from the general.

            “My mistake, good lord. I won’t speak ill of the king ever again.”

            “What’s done is done, I am not merciless, and I am not an idiot, I know our chance is slim, and I am working on it,” General Dorin poured his last cup down his throat before he stood up, “I am leaving, soldiers, stay strong, and don’t drink too much. If we are not lucky, tomorrow might be a hard day to live through”

            General Dorin handed the empty cup back to Henry before he left the bonfire, and walked back to his tent, but not soon after he left the bonfire, one of his soldiers walked into him with a captive in hand. That captive dressed like one of general’s men, but his face… His face the general could not remember.

            “General, I caught a spy in our camp,” the soldier reported, “I handed him over to Sir Hendrik, he said you would want to see to him yourself.”

            “My, my… A spy in my camp. We have only one hundred men and you think I can’t remember all of them? Where did you get this waffenrock from?” Questioned the general. He went with his harsh tone, and, at the same time, grabbed his stolen waffenrock, then pulled him closer until he could breathe a threat onto his face, “I questioned, and you will answer.”

            The spy then spat on the general face, and whispered near his ear, “I took it from one of your men who went pissing alone near the woods, poor lad. I heard you brought a hundred of the best men of your king, now, I know what is your best.”

            As soon as the spy finished his sentence, the Cordenian soldier pulled him back from the general and tossed him to the muddy ground, then kick him in his stomach, “do not get accustomed, you bastard!”

            “Enough, Rodrick,” commanded the general while he was wiping that spit from his face, “you have strong legs, he could die with no use.”

            “You heard him, right? You spy dog!” Rodrick even spat on that poor spy, and could not help kicking him again one last time. Now, other soldiers in the camp started to circle around the conflict. Some shouted some curses, while some even asked for his death, “You see the general’s mercy? Now you’ll behave.”

            Rodrick the strong legs grabbed the spy’s shoulder and raised him up to his feet. His face was covered in mud, and his mouth bled. He really took some really serious kicks from Rodrick, now he could not even breath normally.

            “If you think I’ll talk, you are wrong,” the spy still had his pride.

            “I do know some ways to have you talked…,” James Dorin devilishly grinned. His men around began to shout as loud as they wanted to have this spy… met those ways the general mentioned, “but I think Sir John of Tamrine will know we Cordenians also know when to have mercy. At ease, men, at ease. He does not meet those ‘ways’ tonight because he has more important role to do.”

            “What is this nonsense, Dorin,” Sir Hendrik, the general’s friend, walked right into the scene and pushed that spy aside so he fell down into the mud again, “you can’t let this bastard go. He spies on us, he knows tons of shits about our camp. Make him talk.”

            “He talked enough, Hendrik. Now, I know that I already lose one man before the battle even starts,” the general burst at his friend, “That Sir John already knows everything this spy know because our troop has no secrets. He knows he outnumbers us, he knows these are the best men we have, and he also knows our bests are not that… best. Now, this spy will take out our waffenrock and ride back to his camp. He being alive and well will be a token of my regard, then he’ll inform Sir John of Tamrine that I demand a meeting tomorrow at first light, midway to our camp.”

            Sir Hendrik went into silence, as well as the circling soldiers. As it became quiet, General Dorin sat down on his knee to have his face facing the spy’s, and said gently, “do you understand what I just said?”

            The spy folded down his lips, and nodded.

            “Will you do what I demand?”

            Looked like the spy hesitated at first, then he nodded, again.

            General James Dorin smiled with pleasantry before he stood up and looked around to his fellow soldiers. It looked like Sir Hendrik was not pleased with his decision, but he did not care. The general thought this might be his only chance, so he gave order to one of his men, “Edgar, get him a horse but take his weapons, food, and armor, we can use them. Alright mates, the show is over, get back to your drinking and eating.”

            The spy rode off, while Sir Hendrik approached the general, “why?,” he asked.

            “I… want to challenge Sir John of Tamrine into a duel with high stake.”

            “What stake?”

            “The one who is defeated must surrender and retreat his men back to his king.”

            “He outnumbers us, why would he take this challenge?” Sir Hendrik still came up with questions that needed answers.

            “Because he is far greater a fighter than me, he would take it if there were a chance for him to win this battle without bloodshed, and it’s an assured victory,” the general had to speak it, the harsh truth which told him that, whichever way he would take made no difference, only a total defeat awaited him.

            “Then why challenge him at all? And even if you won, how could you be so sure he would retreat his men back?”

            “Because Sir John is an honorable man.”

            “But how in the hell could you defeat him?”

            “He is an honorable man, but I doubt I am,” General smiled sadly to his friend after he said that with trembling voice, “rest well, my friend, tomorrow might be a long day. Good night.”

            The next morn came with burdens to bear. James Dorin either woke up very early, or he did not sleep at all during the passed night. He sat near the cliff with a bottle of clear water in hand. Brown eyes were on the dawning skyline. They did not reflect any of his emotion but emptiness.

            He could not get over it.

            “General, I and Sir James is ready to ride off,” Sir John of Feaugaer approached from behind to notify his general of the important meeting at first light.

            “I’ve heard Sir James grew up with Sir John of Tamrine. Do you think Sir John will value the old-time sake?”

            “I highly doubt it, my lord,” Sir John always was a sincere man, as so his words and his acts, “our Sir James serves King Aldebert, while Sir John of Tamrine serves King Germain. If one can bend, it means another also can. Those two sirs won’t bend for one another because they took a vow to serve their kings, and I believe both are honorable.”

            “Or should I not bring Sir James with us? Maybe things might be easier this way,” General Dorin drank some water from his bottle while did not leave his gaze from the skyline for any second, “stupid question… Dawn’s breaking. Mount up your horse.”

            Sir John of Feaugaer and General James Dorin left the cliffside of Berna Baveross for their horses. Sir James of Tamrine was already on one’s back. He and the general greeted for the sake of good manners before the general got on his horse, then those three warriors in the waffenrock of house Cordell rode off their camp so swiftly as the meeting was about to be due.

            The horses brought both sides to the meeting point in time. The sun was rising from far east, to the direction of Berna Baveross. Its sharp fiery light rayed upon the green wet grass and also on every grain of sand and dirt. If the bay did not stink of war, it might be an unforgettable view in the general’s whole life.

            Sir John of Tamrine was on his dapple-grey stallion. The sun’s ray also lay down on his right cheekbones, well picturing a battle-worn mug covered in mail coif. He was calm, and he was unruffled, while at the same time, one could see a ruthless soul in just a glance of those blue eyes. To James Dorin, this man was a good demonstration of the kind bred to last through this age of terror.

            “General Dorin,” Sir John of Tamrine started off with his well-mannered greeting, “haven’t seen you in a long time, James, son of James. Oh, and I believe you are that famous Sir John Eisach of Feugaer. Yours was the deed of bravery, to station thirty men on a collapsing post, yet still endured ‘till the reinforcement came. That must’ve been the worst week of your lifetime.”

            Sir John of Feugaer, the young knight, bowed for the compliments, breathed off the lips of his enemy, “those were the days, sir, but now I serve the king.”

            “A king, don’t you mean?” Sir John, the older, interrupted right away, “there are kings here and there these days.”

            “Not these days, good sir, kings have become some common things for ninety-three winters because some scums cared shits about their vows, and fidelity they pledged to their king of the four kingdoms,” the general reworded Sir John’s saying. Not a second after, the cloudy tension came down to the conversation. Sir John narrowed down his eyelids and gave the general a strong gaze, while James Dorin’s brown eyes did not avoid it either.

            Sir James of Tamrine knew what was going to happen if he did not do something, so he broke the tension, and the silence that had had their place over the negotiation for quite sometimes, “ah, John, son of Brolin, it’s good to have seen your mug again before our time comes to an end.”

            “Damn you James, you speak like we are leaving this world soon,” Sir John left his eyes from Geneal Dorin and laid it on his old friend instead. Only a brief moment, but his eyes did show some kind of agony.

            “We are old, John, though you always act as if you are in your forties, but no, we are not, not anymore,” Sir James did not say those words in depression, in the other hand, he even laughed a little, “oh, and greetings to the other knights of Cerbian force. You must be Sir Ivar, and you are Sir Edward.”

            The other knights bowed gently so did the general and the young John. Ivar and Edward were not Cerbian names, John neither… Too much Cordenians joined forces with Cerbeau that had taken the eastern part of the country. In fact, the reason Cerbeau could defeat eastern Cordeni so easily was because too many Cordenian warriors-for example: Sir John of Tamrine-resided with the Cerbian forces.

            Now, thanks to Tamrine being occupied by Cerbeau, house Cordell had really fallen into some deep troubles.

            “Enough of courtesy, what make you bring us here to the negotiation?” Sir John of Tamrine suddenly cut to the point.

            General Dorin gave a smile. It was a smile which contained a lot of bitterness in it. He, then, spoke with a voice of hesitancy, “I don’t want us to waste our men in this pointless battle. We can solve this with no bloodshed, with a duel, you and me. Whoever loses this duel will withdraw his force back to his king.”

            Sir John snorted, in a manner of insult, which made the general’s eyebrow raised up high, “there is another option, to prevent any further bloodshed. My force outnumbers you. If I want to kill away and win this battle, I can, but now I will give you a generous offer, general.”

            “Incredible, I crave to hear it,” he did such a sarcasm as great sarcasm goes.

            “I offer you a chance to surrender, save as much lives as you would like, and join the Cerbian forces. How does that sound?”

            “Very generous, sir, but you know my king won’t allow it, as so I would not take it. The only way to solve this without bloodshed is my way,” General Dorin insisted with a confident smile, fake, but confident. He continued, “I know you are an honorable knight who values life more than glory. You’ve proven it in your victory at the seizure of Obairtir, which you took one on one combat with Sir Howard without a second thought. Now, now is your chance.”

            A grimly smile appeared on Sir John’s face soon after the general finished his sentence, “I wonder how would Sir Tydene feel if he knew his coward trick he used during the War of Fiery Roses has become the most used chivalric term afterwards.”

            “And the majestic high dragons were honorable enough to accept this term every single time it was used,” despite being greatly insulted by Sir John, as the general tightened his grip on the bridle in an attempt to keep his temper down, he did not give up easily.

            The old knight of Tamrine was amazed by Dorin’s persistence. he had to admit he didn’t expect this level of patience and toleration from his enemy, as he had heard some folks’ whispers which stated clearly that General Dorin did not like to be insulted and was impatient with irritating people.

            “Why’re you so eager to fight me, general. Don’t take it for any wrong impression, but I’ve heard you’re as great a general, while in combat… In combat you’re considered somewhat opposite to your capability of sitting in command.”

            As soon as Sir John finished, the general unsheathed his longsword rapidly and pointed it to the old knight’s neck. Sir Ivar and Sir Edward have gone pale for a short while, before became red by anger. They, then, trotted their steeds to come up close and surrounded the general with their swords too. For the general’s side, Sir Eisach was the first to move in with sword in hand, trying to keep the other two knights of Cerbeau away, while Sir James came to James Dorin’s side and tried to calm him down.

            “General, please sheathe your sword. This will bring us more harm than good.”

            Sir Edward raised his sword up trying to strike Sir John of Feaugaer down the horse; however, the brawl soon ended before it even started by the old knight’s order. He only slowly raised his hand up in a calmful manner and all the mess brought up by James Dorin halted at once.

            “I am glad to have seen you lose your temper before we fight,” Sir John of Tamrine beamed with satisfaction as if there were no blade on his throat.

            General Dorin, sword in hand, said in aggressive tone, “I’ll take it as a yes.”

            “Aye, I accept the challenge,” Sir John spoke, “but not today we fight.”

            The general put his sword down and breathed with less temper, “why delaying it?”

            “Not today we fight,” the general did not disagree. He also needed time to think this over, for how to solve this matter, “Tomorrow it is, then.”

            Sir John nodded, “Yes, at noon of the date July 17^th, we will fight in one on one combat. The one who win the duel will be the one who win this battle, and one who lose must retreat from Berna Baveross without condition,” the old knight declared it as loud as he could so that the five lords could be his witnesses, “Let this be Pronter of five gods. Those who defy this declaration shall face the agression of Feugaer, the god of wrath, and shall be stripped off all honor by Laurent, the god of honor, and shall receive no mercy from Obaitir, the god of mercy, and shall be named coward by Brodant, the god of valor, and Troicarne, the god of love, shall give them none of his passion.”

            “Let this be Pronter of five gods,” General Dorin and the other knights in this negotiation repeated to confirm that this treaty was sacred.

            “And, general, I must thank you for sending my spy back alive.”

            “As a token of my regard,” the general replied gently, but his tone was still unfriendly.

            That reply made Sir John smiled even more because he had something in his mind he wanted to propose, and to not waste any precious time, Sir John stretched his chest and spoke respectively, “I must ask you for another… token of your regard, and you’ll have mine too.”

            The general obviously frowned; he did not like the sound of this at all, “what is it?” He asked away, “if it’s affordable, no wills can stop you from having it.”

            Sir John grinned. The general was sure it was a mischievous grin. Then, the old knight implied, “I demand hostages to guarantee you won’t cheat us if I win. You will have my men too.”

            Dorin sighed angrily, but his temper was still in control, “I do not see any necessity in doing this, but if it’ll please you, then have it your way. How many?”

            “Fifty-two, unarmed. That number includes Sir James of Tamrine and Sir John Eisach of Feaugaer.”

            “Are you mad, you bastard!” James Dorin, consumed by wrath, roared like mad lion, and even attempted to kill away the old knight. Except his skill in combat was far worse that Sir John’s, so his blow was easily deflected by Sir John’s gauntlet. Afterwards, Sir James had to hold his general back until they both fell off from the horse back, “I have only a hundred men and you demand me to send you fifty of them? If you slaughtered them all, I would have no chance against you on the battlefield.”

            “General, please, calm down.”

            “Hot headed. I wonder how could he won so many battles when Cordells tried to take Aerdin,” Sir John did not stop insulting him any second, he must admit he enjoyed it more than any balls he ever attended, “Fifty, one hundred, it makes no difference. Even with your full force, you still do not stand a chance against me. I would give you unarmed fifty-two, which includes Sir Ivar, and Sir Edward, too. In fact, I’d like to give you a hundred to fill the proportion differences, but no, your fifty left in camp would not manage to sustain my fifty unarmed men.”

            General Dorin gritted his teeth, and his face shook with anger. The old James could not hold him for long, and as soon as Dorin managed to slip away from Sir James’s grasp, he stumbled and fell on a muddy ground, soaked his armor wet and dirty. Sir John Eisach swiftly dismounted and dashed to his general then hold him tight.

            “Please, general, no more. You are embarrassing yourself!” The young knight tried to talk some sense into his general while putting the rest of his effort to restrain him.

            “This negotiation is done,” Sir John of Tamrine shouted with pleasure, while turning his horse away, “when the sun hangs above your head, Sir Ivar and Sir Edward will bring fifty hostages here, I hope you bring yours, unless I bring war!”

            Sir John, and his companies cantered their horses away, leaving three knights of Cordeni in the mud. General Dorin swore wickedly, and fiercely, too, until his voice went hoarse.

            The old knight did not look back.

            James Dorin in dirty garments stood in front of the camp with a face that bore so many feelings, and most of them were burdens. In his eyes stood fifty-two men, unarmed, unarmored. They all stared at their general, waiting for anything to come out of his long-sealed lips, anything, orders, speeches, or farewell.

            “General, you should speak something, or at least tell them what to do…,” the young knight, Sir John Eisach, unarmed, importuned Dorin. He had to, because the general had stood there, still like a stump, for minutes, and not a word uttered from his mouth, “this is inevitable, general. We have to go there as hostages, this is our only chance, a small chance, but still a chance.”

            General Dorin turned his face towards Sir Eisach and their eyes met. He then realized there was no one to understand what burden he was bearing. He tried so hard to make the advantages out of the negotiation in the morning, but Sir John took all of them, and now that old man was ready to take his soldier too.

            “Fuck it…”

            He took his vows in his knighthood, and swore never to break them.

            “What, general?”

            When he was fifteen, he swore a bunch of oaths as he turned into a squire. And when he turned twenty-one, at the bank of Pronter, King Aldebert knighted him in the Remembrance of Cordelia ceremony, and he swore.

            “I said… fuck it.”

            To the lord of mercy, he swore to think of others more than himself.

            “Fuck Obairtir.”

            To the lord of valor, he swore to move forwards in the direction of the greater good.

            “Fuck Brodant.”

            To the lord of wrath, he swore to point his sword to his true enemy, but would wield it wisely.

            “Fuck Feugaer.”

            To the lord of love, he swore to dedicate his life for the well being of the people of the realm.”

            “Fuck Troicarne.”

            To the lord of honor, he swore never to break all his oaths, or he be the knight of no one.

            “I say we fuck Laurent, fuck the honor, fuck everything. Our king needs us more than ever. Honor? We cannot afford!” James Dorin declared as loud as thunder, “Cerbians are out there, ready to crush us. If we do not stop them, Cordeni is doomed. Let they talk shits about honor. They have none too! When King Albert Cordell died, they did not know fidelity too! Tonight, we sacrifice our honor to save our king, the true king to the four kingdoms! You, my brave fifty-two men will go to their camp unarmed, but not unhearted, so let your hearts burn with fire of enmity, and let that fire burn them all!”

            The general pulled a flag from its pole and hold it up high. It was the banner which sewed a sigil of house Cordell, The lion with red heart. “Tonight, we all have duty to preserve our king!”