This is a first draft of a story set in the world of Greyhawk.
It is based on a home campaign so some of the people, places and things
may be different. Any helpful comments or suggestions are very welcome.
Thanks
Jason Zavoda
The Bow of Haladan Part XXXV
"I know you, sergeant." said Matholwch. "From the bridge."
"Sir." Kyle answered, but immediately turned back to his
men and began directing them as they took up position in the
torn and muddy field.
"Glad to see you here." the knight continued, but Kyle was
already several feet away. "Captain." Matholwch faced Nwyvre.
"I haven't been a captain for years." said Nwyvre with a hard
voice. "Call me chief or Nwyvre if you like."
"You were a captain, that I know." Matholwch answered him
quietly.
"Times change." said Nwyvre. "And so have I."
"You've left the Duke's service then." said Matholwch
"The Duke left Geoff." answered Nwyvre. "It is Geoff I serve,
have always served."
"The Duke has returned to Geoff." objected Matholwch. "He'd be
dead now if he stayed and it would have changed nothing."
"Dead like his people there." Nwyvre pointed to the walls of
Hochoch. "If the Duke had stayed, if his guards had stood firm instead of
flying like frightened rabbits, maybe there would have been time. Maybe
those walls would have no decorations."
"You stayed, others went back before now," an angry sliver had
crept into the knight's voice, "did it do any good. Have you chased the
giants out."
"Nywvre, Matholwch, stop this pointless arguing." Seidi stepped
between the two. "It seems that the giants must have bespelled this ground
to have their enemies fight among themselves. First Kyle, now the two of
you."
"You've grown too old, Seidi." said Nwyvre. The ranger-chief
stepped back. He unclenched his hands and worked the blood back into
his fingers.
"I am sworn to the Duke." said Matholwch.
"And I am not." the sound of Nwyvre's words was like ice around
stone.
"And many here are sworn to the Gran March." added Seidi. "We are
all here to fight the giants. I don't care who kills them. You two are
arguing over who owns the eggs when you have no chicken."
"He is right." said Matholwch. "I began this, I offer my apologies
to you Nwyvre."
"No need." said Nwyvre, but he clasped arms with the knight all
the same. "Have you seen what you needed to here. Another company
approaches." he nodded toward the way that the soldiers had come down the
old trail.
A banner fluttered in the slight breeze. A black lion on a field
of red, a red sword on a field of blue, and a white field dotted with
small black shields.
"The thirty-third." said Matholwch. "I passed them on my way to
you. More Geoffites returning in the service of the March."
"Are they all as green as these soldiers here?" asked Nywvre.
He watched the troopers of the thirty-third make there way to the edge
of the fetid stream. Kyle and Waddard pulled and pushed them back and into
cover. The shouts from the monitors sounded like the growling of bears.
"No need to keep things quiet." said Matholwch.
"Soldiers are always loud." Nwyvre shook his head. "But these are
undisciplined, they move like a mob. Do they know how to fight together?"
"These are the auxiliaries from the March." Matholwch explained,
trying to keep himself from getting angry again. "Many are green, but they
have spirit. They are brave. They're fighting for their homeland."
"Bravery won't shield them from a giant's club, or teach them
when to step aside from a blow.' said Nwyvre. "Those that survive will
learn, but many will die."
"I know it." Matholwch spat out. "Don't think that I like it."
* * *
(To Be Continued...)