Ten of Swords (Draft Only)

Chapter 40

Fifty years ago, Dimas stood before the castle Hofburg. Little more than a foreigner from west, inspired by bard songs and old stories, he had traveled to Stotten in search of the adventure that he was certain awaited him. His homeland of Kavkkol was a patchwork of warring clans, some of which had traveled elsewhere to make lives for themselves as bandits. Monarchy was an alien concept, one made fantastical by the music that slowly made its way from the east with each trader and captured slave.

Something about the idea of a ruler, ordained by the gods, power over all they might see, and devoted to the people. In his heart he had ached for purpose, and so he had made the trek through the cold to warmer lands.

Before he could become a knight, that mythical figure who was sworn to honour and protect the kingdom, he would have to make a name for himself. With his greatword and his might, he made war against the wicked and the foul. Yet the trail of blood he left behind him was not what would give him his new name.

In the wars to unify the provinces of Stotten under the queen's rule, he was forged by fire. Gifted the Zweihander that he would carry for the next half century, he left a trail of blood and corpses from Hofburg, to Fort Tiere and then to Heigerburg. Starting as little more than a squire, by the end of Regula's unifying wars he had become a royal knight. In honour of his feats in battle, he was given the name Redrain. To the gods, he swore to defend the crown and the royal family.

Then, Regula was dead.

As he stood before the fallen walls of the city of Hofstadt, he vividly recalled what it was like, being forced to watch her be executed. How he had cried silently, standing at attention, his helmet hiding his face as the crowd called for her death. All too quickly they had forgotten who she was. Not just as their queen, but as a person.

Jealous of her power and influence, her husband had spread rumours of her infidelity and foulness, that she was a temptress and a fiend, who delighted in acts so amoral as to make the goddess of purity herself weep tears of anguish. All lies, of course. Regula had been a great leader. It was she who secured the prosperity and strength needed to claim Stotten under one rule, and she had been kind to her people. She would speak with the farmers on matters of harvest and would have the servants rest if something made the day's work unbearable. Under her rule, both before and after the wars, the people had been happy.

Now, his zweihander stained red once more, he would invade the castle he once kept. No longer would he allow Regula's legacy to be fouled by greed and ambition.

Redrain's skeletal soldiers were the men he fought with and against during the war of the three brothers. In his memories they charged up the hill, a city of wooden shacks and a castle that had existed as long as history itself. The brothers had been the sons of Regula's husband, which he had sired with her younger sister following her death. Victorious was the middle child, master of Hofburg at the time, and father of Hereskel and his ill-fated older brother. No monarch after Regula had ever been worthy of the crown. Perhaps no ruler ever would be, but none could be so foul as the descendants of the three brothers.

Vengeance would come late. Yet, Redrain was thrilled to know that finally his beloved queen would rest in peace. Her husband's foul spawn would no longer rule over the kingdom which she had created. The kingdom may never be what it once was, but change would come. So long as evil no longer seated the throne.

"Death to the King!"

No soldier echoed his battle cry, for they were all naught but puppets. The demons did not care, only that their contracts were fulfilled, and their prizes claimed. The mages were not invested in the outcome of the battle, only how their performance would reflect upon their grades. Madame Irma, dean of their college would be watching closely, wondering what her old flame would say if he could see what power her students had now. What progress magic had made in the decades since she last saw him. She wondered if he was even awake, or still taken by the long sleep.