A Tale of Time: The Malice of Men

Chapter 22: Nightmares

 They sneak in stealthily in the night,

Like an assassin's iron kiss.

You will struggle, you will fight,

But you shall know no bliss.

Bronstonn still haunted his dreams. That dark, bloody face, beaten to a thick pulp, seemed to stare at him. "My King, please..." It was the last thing Bronstonn said before Asteryn put him out of his misery. For many a day, he wondered what Bronstonn was asking for. Forgiveness? A relief from the pain? Now he knew": mercy. Everything he did, he did at the King 's command. In his dreams, Asteryn was untouched. He seemed caring, even innocent, staring at Bronstonn like he was an unfinished task that would wreak his heart. This time, the dream didn't end. Teylin came for him. 

Asteryn did not move. His bloodied sword was inches away from Bronstonn's  neck. He was in the process of searching his sword. Teylin screamed and plunged the dagger into his friend's heart. Asteryn did not move. He stayed Stoll as a statue, still staring at Bronstonn whose lifeless form lay before him. All around him, time halted. Teylin braced himself for the gush of hot, red blood but instead, tears flowed. Annoyed, Teylin stabbed again and again and again, screaming to the heavens every time he did. Asteryn deserved death. The only reason he was alive was because Teylin didn't have it in him to kill Astern. 

When he was done, there was a large pool of tears all around him. It was only later that he realized he was weeping too.

Teylin woke up with a start. Cold sweat ran down his face. His pillow was wet with it. For a moment, Teylin thought they were years too. It's just a dream. He convinced himself and got up.

 He splashed some water on his face and put on a presentable attire. Then, preparing himself for the worst as he always seemed to do these days, he stepped out. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to see.

It was snowing. It was late autumn, but it was already snowing. The first snowfall was usually a month and half later. Ërastir was covered in a thin layer of white, making it look like a veiled lady, graceful and strong. The trees, which still weren't done shedding their leaves, now wore a frigid hue. There were a couple of kids in the courtyard, children of some worker or the other, who were digging up landfills of snow and throwing it at each other. They seemed so blissful, blessedly ignorant of what was happening all around them. Despite himself, Teylin smiled.

There were the  usual  number of interpretations of this omen. One said that it foretold the death of a loved one, possibly a beautiful looking person. Others took it as a sign from the Gods announcing their visit. Some were even audacious enough to claim that it heralded the coming of the Giants. While such talk was a ridiculous, it  seemed to sap the morale of his men. It made them fearful and unwilling to do work of any sort. He had to put a check on that.

Descending from his quarters, he walked up to his second-in-command. "When did it start snowing?" He asked. "Last night, sir." Shastha replied briefly. "What's the news of today?" 

"Nothing to be worried about, except perhaps the snow, but we can't do anything about that now, can we?" Shastha spoke almost as if he were taunting him, daring him to say otherwise. It was not with pleasant satisfaction that Teylin remembered Sasrha was one of the few people whip saw Bronstonn die. They had sworn not to tell anyone, so the true nature of the ex-commander's death remained unknown to a majority of the people. What will he do if I suffer the same fate? He wondered.

The city was more or less at peace since last week. There were not many cases of thievery, no talk of rebellion nor any brawl that spiralled  pit of control. The only small issue was the prize of food, which had increased marginally. The food crisis was worrying. The King's decision to distribute food at low prices was only a temporary solution. For now, livestock and fish filled their bellies. Somehow, the disease that killed the crops hadn't spread over water, sparing Symbeya and the Western Isles, which now left then with the unenviable task of feeding all fourteen provinces. 

Teylin shuddered and pulled his clothes together. He should have dressed more warmly. He came out a few minutes later in full armour and a sword on hand. As usual, he planned to head for the master-at-arms, who was ordered to teach Teylin. He took him up without the slightest hint of emotion, but Teylin was used to him now. It did not unnerved him to see his dull, silent eyes studying him or his smilless mouth and frownless brow bearing down on him. All that mattered was steel.

CLANK! The sound of metal rang. The noise could be heard from far away this frigid morning and many stopped and watched. Teylin was used to the stares by now. His first day had been a rather difficult and uncomfortable one, what with the feel of armour and the people looking at him with fearful eyes. 

"Good. " Karl said, assessingTeylin's poise and grip. He had improved a lot since he had begun. The rate of progress astounded everyone, even the master-at-arms, who seemed to be an impossible person to impress. He had reported as much to the King. Asteryn had come himself to see how his dear old friend was doing and congratulated him on his progress. They said a blacksmith's hands are made for the sword. He was proving the truth of that. 

In the span of just two days, he was able to hold his own against recruits who had been training for over two months. In another week, he had achieved a degree of mastery that required him to spar with well-bred soldiers to improve.

The armour seemed to weigh nothing. It seemed like a part ofhim now; a skin that he always wore. Didn't somebody promise something like that would happen? 

Karl raised his sword, as if in preparation for a blow to the head. Teylin knew better. He dodged the stroke well enough and went on to parry the true slash. In battle, that would have cut him from the bottom up. Then, he retaliated with his own blows. A wild swing to the midsection sent him reeling, armour and all. Shields weren't Mich protection against the sheer power that he had. Teylin quickly followed it with another blow that sent him to his knees. He held him there. All around him, people were watching wit h awe and fear.

Karl smiled. "Good. Excellent! Again!" So they went on. Teylin won many duels, but the count was still ever so slightly in Karl's favour. They were about to begin again when one of the city guard came rushing towards him.

"The King 's advisor has returned. He seeks an audience with you, sir." He said. Teylin nodded. Taking leave of Karl, he made his way. Hazzad was waiting for him in his own quarters. When he arrived,.the worn, wise man turned to meet him.

"Come, there is King 's work to be done." He said in a brisk tone. "What sort of work?" Teylin asked apprehensivly. "I shall tell you layer. Besides, what do you have to fear? You said yourself at you were a friend of the King, yes? Or do your loyalties waver?" That kept him quiet for a while.

Hazzad led him straight to the King 's room, which was both a relief and a pain for Teylin. The advisor seemed weak and haggard. He had made all haste to return and made little.effort to conceal the fear in his eyes. His clothes were.in tatters and what  left of them was splattered with mud. All in all, an unhappy picture .

This time, he went in the right way. The King was within and like the night before, so was April, who was now the queen. Only this time, both of them were awake. They seemed to be in the midst of a rather quiet conversation. April was looking at Asteryn wit  loving hands, holding his hand. Both were dressed quite casually.

"My King." Hazzad began, not giving Asteryn the time to react. April stood up, ready to leave, but the King bade her sit."My mission was a success. I have the cure for the crops."

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A rather short chapter, perhaps! What do you think of the events? What was your favourite(or most horrible) moment? Do let me know!

As always, thank you for reading.

Archit Kottapalli