The war of the twelve realms - Book 1 - Of squires and scholars

Chapter 9 - Arnel

Chapter 9

Arnel Hollin tottered down the corridors from his chamber in Saltbridge. He had been having an afternoon nap, taking a break from his duties as the castle's senior venerant when a guard had knocked on his door, asking him to come to the great hall immediately. The guard had failed to elaborate further.

"I don't know why, sir. Sir Derryn just told me to summon you quickly and that's what I've done, although there's been rumours that the little foreign squire wildly attacked the Lady Faeryssa," he had said when Hollin had asked.

Tryssen, a berserker? He thought as he quickly stumbled through the well-lit corridors. That can't be right; only the people with the blood of north-west have ever been berserkers, and even then it's rare. How could a Kavallan have the blood? Venerant Hollin suspected that the answers would come soon enough, if only is darned legs weren't so old he could be in the hall by now.

Five minutes later, the aged venerant entered the great hall through one of the doors in the back of the hall, trying to disguise just how winded he was.  Lord Fullarch and Sir Derryn, along with various other knights from the hold were waiting by the Lord's Seat. Tyras was sat on the seat, listening to a minor knight.

"-it's just not possible, my lord. How could a Kavallan possibly possess the gift?" he was saying, whilst Lord Fullarch and the others patiently listened, "He's been here for months now, and this is the first incident, maybe if it had happened before, we might have a better grasp of what ails the boy."

"But it has happened before." Venerant Hollin spoke up, just about keeping the panting out of his sentence. Gods, I need to be twenty years younger! "Whilst we were on Sir Arvas' scouting trip, the boy came under the same madness and almost incapacitated a full grown warrior. This is the second incident, and it is almost identical to the last. I will admit, I do not know much about this incident as yet, but my guess would be that Tryssen has some small part of the berserker's blood. Perhaps it can be quelled, perhaps it cannot. Only a berserker will know for sure, as they can feel the blood within another."

"Well said, Venerant!" said Lord Fullarch, and he filled Arnel in on the details of the duel, as recounted by Fyn and Karvel, as well as several others who had been practising and Tryssen himself when they had been able to persuade the boy to talk. When he had finished, he said, "As you say, the only way we can know for sure whether Tryssen has the blood is to ask another berserker to come and examine him. Unfortunately, the lands where the berserkers come from - The lands of the lords Eisvel and Gorgare - are across the entire kingdom, and separated from us by Tharos lands. Unless there is a travelling berserker in these lands, we have no or little hope of finding out. I, for one, am unwilling to use good men for a cause not important to the war, but I also see the need to analyse the boy's abilities, for if he goes untrained and unrestrained, we may face an internal threat."

"There are some groups or individual mercenaries that have or are berserkers, but they will demand a lot of money, and probably want to take the boy to train him with them. If that happens, we may lose an advantage in the future." said the minor knight. The brown boar on his surcoat marked him out as Sir Argith.

"Advantage?" Sir Derryn questioned. "How can a madman be an advantage? The berserkers are welcome to the boy, I shall not have him as my page anymore, not after he has hurt Faeryssa this badly. My daughter has not even stirred from her weakness, and you seek to glorify the, the thing that hurt her! He is as madman, and he always will be.  It was a mistake to take him on, knowing little and less about him!"

"But we know much about him, good sir, and can guess much more. He is brave, strong, quick to learn and loyal to people who treat him well." Venerant Hollin stepped in. "His parents were the two greatest smugglers of our age, and managed to keep their affairs a secret from their own children, who hardly ever left the ship they were born on. Perhaps this cunning runs in the blood, and we shall have a warrior, scholar and loyal vassal in the future. I understand your pain, believe me I do, but the boy cannot be blamed for his blood, and he still has the fickle mind of a child. Once grown, I believe he will be a different man; a good man.