The Kingdom of Liticea: The Sorcerer Prince

Chapter Thirty-Five: Jon Malken's Departure

The next morning, Jon Malken departed before anyone else had awoken. He wanted to get to Muscavra before anything else, and he was not willing to let goodbyes stand in his way. He had no desire to see anyone in Tauron's company before he left. They were all a bunch of posh Eastern know-it -alls.

His total escort consisted of Freedmir and twenty volunteers. Among them were two of the Gravekeepers who joined with them at Anton. They came up to Malken the night before saying that they wish to accompany him to other parts of the Westland. When he learned they were Gravekeepers, he wanted nothing to do with them until they revealed they had orders from the King himself and the leader of their order to cover as much land as possible to find out if there was anything to know of the Morcar Invasion. Malken personally did not need to know anything else than the Morcars were invading and they had to be stopped. He did not need some monster hunters to tell him so. But apparently they felt the need to

One of them was a thin little man named Gill Gafner. He had a pockmark on every corner of his face and was missing the tooth behind the front one on both sides, giving him the look of a hairless rabbit. The other man was the opposite build, more than six feet tall and four feet across and wearing a helm with a visor and a tattered, green-stained feather on top. Gafner said the man was a mute and hardly ever took off his helm. At his right hip was a heavy mace, and on the other side was a morningstar. His real name was unknown to him, but apparently everyone in their order referred to the big mute as 'Mace Morningstar.' Malken felt it was an appropriate one.

Among the others were several knights that either found their way into the Prince's, Dayvey's or Oaran's armies. Malken was trying to find volunteers to escort him to Muscavra, but most declined to have anything to do with the outcast Westlander. Then he came upon a tall, heavily bearded man named Sir Jesper Virgil, along with his band of about thirteen knights. They were a group of knights who traveled around the country looking for work and they thought that the coming battles for the Westland would be a remarkable opportunity. They agreed t go with Malken because his mission promised more personal glory for the lot of them. And they received a promise to Malken that he would send word of their efforts to the Prince and the King. Apparently they have not heard of what low regard Malken believed that every other duke, baron and knight held him in.

They continued riding through the morning and into the day, until the knights decided to stop for a noon-day meal. Malken demanded that they continue on, but they countered with the fact that they had skipped breakfast and therefore were entitled to a little meal and a little rest. Malken agreed to give them an hour.

Along with all of these charming characters, he had brought a map so that he could plan out how long they would travel each day and how many it would take to reach the central part of the Westland where Muscavra resided.

When Sir Jesper was done with his own men, he joined Malken, Freedmir, and Gill Gafner in discussing how they were going to proceed.

"We're about one hundred- seventy miles from the borders of Muscavra," Malken said as the four of them pondered over a map that was spread over a rock, "At the rate we're going, we could be there in a week. If we move faster we can get there in less."

"Neither we, nor our horses could stand galloping for a whole day, Lord Malken."

"Heh, knights," Gafner giggled to himself. He spoke that he and Mac could make it in three days if they were unencumbered by all of these slow moving knights. Virgil and others said that no horse could go that far without collapsing. Many of them wanted to wring Gill's little neck, but were hesitant to take on the imposing Mace Morningstar.

"Maybe not. But if move faster than our current pace," his hand traced the central forest trail which they were following and it stopped at a small keep about thirteen miles from their position, "We could reach this keep just after sundown. They'll have fire, beds, and hot food."

"Who owns that keep?" asked Freedmir.

"The Haynes of Haynewood i believe."

"Are they friendly?" Jesper asked.

"Not sure how they'll feel about a group of armed men coming to their door in the midst of a war," Gill pointed out. On their journey they have passed several unsavory looking people. One of the knights even said he spotted some fellow looking at them from behind a tree with a knife in hand. They would have probably been robbed at least three times if they were not so heavily armed and in a group.

"They know of my family," Jon said.

"But will they believe you?" Freedmir skeptically asked "There has not been a Malken in the Westland for more than fifty years."

"There may not have been, but my ancestors left their mark on this land. They may not know of me, but they will know of my family legacy."

"They will know of your family, Lord Malken. The question is whether or not they will believe you."

"I bear my family's colors, I have you men to vouch for me and I was sent by the Prince of Liticea with an official call to arms which I have in my saddlepack."

"You didn't tell us you had a call to arms," Gill siad.

"I didn't think it was necessary information."

"Fair enough," Jesper said, "The question I have is when will we get to spill some Morcar blood? My sword arm is getting flabby."

"Once we rally the Muscavra forces, we will move north and link up with Prince Tauron. Once we get to the Haynes, we'll also finally be able to get some figures of how many fighting men are left."

"Why would they know? The War's on the other side of the Westland."

"They'll know than we do, or any of these refugees," he said as a carriage nervously passed their company by.

"Let's be on our way," and the company rode off.