Part 1: Homecoming

I

Adrian heard the mounted horsemen before he saw them, he glanced over his shoulder the well-worn gravel track behind him that was pitted with ruts and washouts where hundreds or even thousands of wagons had passed before, grinding away at the small grey stones that lined the road. It had created depressions in the sea of grey stone that now held water and mud. It stretched out behind him and curled up around a rolling rise of what passed for a hill in these wooded plains before it dipped again out of view as it wound through the leafless trees. The skeletal expanse of naked branches was dotted intermittently with an odd cedar or even a willow that had yet to lose its coverings even this late in the season.

The sound of the harness as well as the noise of the men was much too loud and came too quickly to simply be some farmer driving his crop to the market, even had he brought with him his sons and farmhands. As the troop trotted around the corner and into view Adrian reached out and grabbed his companion by her arm, steering her off the beaten path and into the mud on the side of the road. Isi followed his unspoken directions without comment and stood behind him and off to the side slightly. He glanced at her, taking in her appearance. Shabby woolen clothing fit for a beggar ripped and patched in so many places with different scavenged cloth that the thing had more patch than the original material. She might have passed for just some other street beggar if not for her coloring. Her golden-brown skin had been made all the darker by the mud, dirt, and grime on it as well as a lifetime spent outdoors marked her as a foreigner here in Helheim. Neverminding her hair that at one point in time had been bone white, but now was a ropy mess of grey and brown. She was a young woman, no more than seventeen or eighteen if he had to guess, and as he steered her clear she gazed at him with those piercing amethyst eyes.

She was a Scraeling.

A savage native of the land of Kurtz, one of the many tribes that still roamed the lands.

The Kurtz often simply ignored the Scraeling, but occasionally one would do something that annoyed a member of the royalty enough to start a skirmish, what followed that was a short and aggressive campaign where Kurtz officers bolstered the ranks of slaves, capturing many of the Scraeling tribespeople for use in querries and labor camps. Women Isi’s age would have become a house servant or even a concubine, only the most untameable women would end up in work camps like the Sydnid mines.

Kurtz labor camps were rather sordid affairs, there was no real guard presence inside the camps, simply a strong outer parameter, inside the slaves were allowed to do as they pleased, so long as the quota was met if it was not then the guards would discipline the slaves.

The beatings were so bad and were randomly dolled out that it created groups of slaves that would enforce rules, making sure the quota was met, and work was handed out. It was not fair, not by a long shot, but the slaves of the camp had formed there own micro-society of a sort. It was no place for a young woman, certainly not one that didn't even speak Heilan like the rest of the slaves, Adrian had stepped in to prevent an… incident.

She had stayed by his side since.

The rumble beneath his worn boots once again brought him out of his thoughts and back into reality. In full dress uniform of their unit, some two dozen men trotted around the side of the rise and from behind a stand of trees riding two by two, following the same worn road that they were.

Not bandits, Adrian let out a breath, not that he had anything a bandit would want. He glanced once again at Isi, well, perhaps not nothing, and he would be dead before they took her. The horsemen’s cavalry jackets were freshly pressed, the deep blue of Helheim’s men at arms stitched with a red stripe down the right arm and clasped with brass buttons that were offset to the left side and were pressed and laundered sharply. As were the darker blue pants also with a red stripe down the side. Each man wore a pair of black boots polished so well a man could check his teeth in them, a belt of just as fine leather, and a calverymen’s sword. The curved length of steel glinting in the sunlight of the morning shone with the promise of blood and death. The musket’s and pistols they held in the crooks of their arms, the barrels pointed to the heavens above, and the bayonets fixed on the ends. It was, however, the caps that allowed Adrian to relax, after all, a cavalryman only wore the high plume for ceremonial reasons.

And a group of soldiers who were currently in their dress uniforms would not be looking for trouble, not for the shabbily dressed man and his Scraeling companion. Not that Adrian held any illusion that they wouldn't do as they pleased with whom they pleased, troops without solid leaders were like to do anything. It was simply less likely if they were all dressed for pomp and ceremony, after all, it was hard to get blood out of clothing.

To Adrian’s surprise, their captain held up a hand as they came near. The unit raggedly came to a halt, some men sawing back on their mount’s reigns while others simply fell out of line. One man even had to wheel his mount back around to get back to where he was supposed to be. The squelch and suck of the hooves trailing off in a way that would have had Adrian’s father bellowing grievous and entertaining insults at such a sorry lot as this.

Ah well, no matter…

“You there-” he paused and considered what he should address Adrian as, after all, were you supposed to call a beggar a beggar to his face? In the end, he decided to skip addressing him and simply went on with his question,“ is that the road to Irkstead?” he asked pointing his immaculately white-gloved hand down the road at a split. Adrian paused for a second, glancing at the road. He had once known these roads by heart, but that was when he had been a youth and atop a steed, meaning any mistake he made could be made up in short enough time and with little enough effort.

“No, Sir,” he pointed, his long finger pointing out the proper bend, “The road is this way to Irkstead, follow the left path to a bridge, the crossing is a half-mile ahead, from there you will round the bend and should be able to see the city, from there it is a good mile and a half down the road,” he answered when he was sure. The captain nodded, and fished around in his coin purse, pulling out not a copper, which is what Adrian would have expected but rather a silver Tolten. He flipped the coin over to Adrian, but before he could even move Isi’s hand darted out and snatched the coin as it danced through the air, disappearing back into the shabby folds of her robes before anyone could blink.

“Women,” he snorted and almost all of his men smiled or chuckled to themselves.”They are all quite adept at taking a man’s money aren't they?” Adrian for his part simply smiled.

“We thank you for your kindness, ” he bowed, and Isi awkwardly followed his movements, mimicking his bow. The captain nodded and ordered the men under his command back into order before marching along the road that Adrian had indicated. Adrian and Isi watched as they quickly disappeared down the road, he was not envious of them, he had once been like them, green, eager for war.

But that had been five years ago…

He hoped he had sent them down the correct road, not only because it was the direction Isi and he was heading but also because he didn't think sending a two dozen well-armed men the wrong way was good for their health. As he watched the men pass by, he felt his good mood deteriorate, the smiling beggar’s mask he had donned for them slipped away like it had been greased on the inside. In its place, a foul blackness crept back in place.

He had been just like them, so jovial, riding with brothers in arms to the war on the Helheim- Kurtz border. He had served his country, done his job, and for it what had he gotten? It had gotten him forgotten, it had gotten him sent to a hell hole. Five years, five years he had survived in that pit, he had done things, many many things that he was not proud of. One did what one must in order to survive. He glanced over at Isi, the one bright light in that entire black pit, the only reason he had survived. He had done his absolute best to make sure her life there was as easy as could be in that situation. He had protected her, he had killed for her, just as she had done for him

The countryside passed by slowly as they methodically trod along, skeletal forest slightly giving way as he neared the town. The people here were simple, woodcutters, farmers, ranchers, but that was not the reason a town had sprung up here, the reason for this was because a lord had built their home here.

If it could even be called a home, however, was up for debate.

The household of this person of noble heritage was more like a keep than a house, sitting atop the highest hill in the vicinity, it was surrounded by four high stone walls that crested at around 25 feet. The entire outer wall structure running almost 40 lance lengths on each side, and the stone keep in the center standing proudly over that, boasting a not so modest 50 plus rooms for people of royal personage, with stained glass windows that made the churches of most towns weep at the unfairness of it all.

It even had an iron portcullis.

Though, no moat, seeing as it was perched atop such a high hill there was no practical need for it. He felt his eyes start to mist over as it came into view, it sat there, standing proudly over the small town.

Home.

Adrian blinked the tears away and without even noticing it stood up straighter, the limp he walked with less pronounced than even a handful of seconds ago. “Its funny Isi, back in the day when I was growing up here I couldn't wait to get away.” he cracked a smile, the jagged knife scar that ran down the left side of his face from cheekbone to the corner of his mouth twisted as his face made the now foreign motion. “I used to think it so plain, ordinary small, boring, now, however,” he glanced over at Isi, she was staring at his lips with a look of slight wonder and amazement, it was the first time he had smiled in years, likely it was the first time she had ever seen him smile. “Now, it just looks perfect.”

She nodded, a smile playing across her lips, she didn't say anything, in fact, she rarely spoke, and never in any language but her own. He had taught her of course, she understood exactly what he was saying, unless he started to speak too fast, or if it didn't suit her needs at the time.

She was quite skilled in forgetting the language altogether for periods of time that were most opportune for her…

“Come on, let's go home,” part of him didn't want to go up to the castle walls looking like a beggar, but there was nothing for it. Even with the silver Tolten, there was not enough money for a bath and new clothes for both himself and Isi. Not to mention that the bathhouse only served men on one day and women every other day. And so it was off to begging at his own doorstep.

So be it, he had suffered worse humiliations in the past, and if he only had to suffer one more to make sure Isi and he were well and truly safe then that was a price he would be more than willing to pay…

The city itself had not changed in any recognizable way in the years, it was still the small quaint village where he had chased girls around with his friend Heathri, the guard captain's son. Those were good times, times where the only worry he had was trying to not get caught by angry fathers and brothers for defiling their daughters and sisters respectively. His father had made it amply clear after that first incident that he was not going to provide Adrian with any protection. Last he had heard Heathri had assumed the castle Warder position, with any luck he would still hold that post even all these years later.

As they neared the keep gate proper after passing through the town, an endeavor that had gotten him and Isi a lot of attention, after all Irkstead was a small enough city that there were only one or two beggars, not at all like the proper city that had entire beggar communities like the ones in the capital. The country of Helheim was located in the resource-rich mountain ranges and the fertile breadbasket fields and valleys to the south of Kurtz. In fact, Helheim was around half the size of Kurtz, the only reason it had not been absorbed into the Kurtz empire was the fact that there were only two ways into the country that large forces could enter. The first being the pale pass, a narrow stretch of land that wound through the mountains, just open enough for cavalry and smaller artillery, and with the fortress that was built there, it would be a major uphill battle, seeing as at the widest pale pass was only a half-mile wide.

The only other way to land troops was by sea, the Alliance bay by the capital city of Helheim, which was in a bowl-like depression that was ringed with mountains around the sides, and Helheim’s navy was not something to scoff at. That and there was a loose agreement with the Midorians, who hated the Kurtz empire, so to even get at the Helheim navy one would need to first beat back the Midorians.

The main gate was open, each side guarded by a man in full guard livery, the padded blue, and red infantrymen’s coats cleaned and well kept, the iron kettle helms polished and shining in the midday sun. Rested in the crook of their arms were bayonetted muskets, the oak stocks polished and lacquered.

“Halt!” the guard on the right called out, his hand held up to stop them from entering. “There be no beggin’ here you blackguard, turn around and go back the way you came, the Lord of the manner is away, they won't be receiving visitors, especially the likes of you” Ah, so the Lord was away, was he? Adrian smiled, he was glad to be home, and he was sure his father would want to see him, but he was glad to put that off for a while, it would give him and Isi some time to get in better shape, granted one could not put on tons of weight in just a few days but it would be much better if he could at least get a bath, some sleep, and some clothes, he was sure those things, plus some good hot meals would work wonders on himself and Isi.

Adrianus Von-Tori was a distant man, not cold, simply removed he had been that way since Adrian’s younger brother had been born, his wife, Adrian’s mother had not survived the birth, and while Adrian didn't think his father blamed Janus he knew he part of the man had died that day.

“Tell me is Heathri still the castle warder?” Adrian asked, ignoring the guard and turning towards his fellow.

“Aye, that he is,” the second guard glanced at the first.

“Could you do me a favor and run and fetch him? Tell him an old friend has come knocking, and while you're at it ask him if old man Gala took all the dogs with him this time?” he held out a hand and Isi deposited the silver Tolten into it. He used his good hand to flip the man the coin, the hand that still had all the fingers

“Right away sir,” the guard said and nodded, it was, after all, a simple enough request, and it got the man out of standing around at the gate, even if only for a little while.

“Having to bribe a guard to get into my own house,” he muttered under his breath as the guard turned and walked into the courtyard. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

“You won't be let in,” the remaining guard hooked his thumb and pointed back over his shoulder.

“That's fine, I just wish to see my friend,” truth be told he wanted much more than that, but it was a start. The guard just grunted and turned back to watch the road. It didn't take long before the sounds of a man running, keys jangling on a loop were heard. Adrian smiled, the man that rounded the corner was not the one he had remembered. Heathri had put on some weight around the middle, his hair was cut differently and the youthful beard he had been so proud of was nowhere to be seen.

But it was still Heathri.

“Adrian?” he croaked looking at the man standing before him, filthy and wearing rags.

“I am surprised you can still run,” Adrian said with a smile, “I could feel the ground shaking with every step you took you fat bastard.” Heathri practically barreled into him, wrapping him in a brotherly hug. “It is good to see you too,” he smiled.

So damned good.

“What happened to you?” he pulled back and held him at arm's length scrutinizing him. “Last we heard you were promoted to commander of a force on the border and when the treaty with Kurtz was signed you were ordered to stand down, your father pressed for your return, threatened to pull the army from the border if they didn't get you back.” he looked deep into Adrian’s eyes. “We thought you were dead!”

“It's a long story, one which I am sure father will want to hear, do you think perhaps I and my companion could first bathe and eat? It has been a long and hard journey.” Heathri glanced at Isi taking her in.

“Certainly, I will prepare a guest room for her and-”

“No need, she won't leave my side, practically refuses to do so, just my room, though I am sure she would appreciate it if you set up two tubs so we don't have to go one at a time, I am sure she feels as dirty as I do, and some decent clothes would be appreciated.”

“At once,” Heathri only paused for a second before answering “Come come!” he ushered them both into the courtyard.

The courtyard of the keep was impressive, it was a large manicured lawn, with a gravel path down the center that led to a circular central area with a moderately sized fountain that was at this time not raining down water due in part to the cold weather. The architecture of the fountain, however, was impressive, there was a man atop a horse, horn in one hand, bow in the other, his cape flowing in the wind immortalized by the artisan that had captured the moment in time. The horn was raised to his lips and at his horse’s feet ran a score of hounds. All in all quite impressive.

“Five years, where have you been this whole time?”

“If you must know a Kurtz work camp,” Adrian’s friend froze Adrian didn't notice for a few steps but as he turned he beheld an enraged Heathri.

“A work camp?” he growled, his face turning red in anger.

“Peace friend, I will tell it all later, but first I need a bath...” it took some convincing and Heathri still looked angry but he led them around the courtyard and towards the manner.

Along the gravel path of the walkway, there was a multitude of bushes that were trimmed into immaculate if somewhat unnatural rectangles, dotted periodically by iron lamps that cast light much more readily than flames of torches. At the far end of the causeway was a manor, it had five different chimneys, and its long rectangle front was dotted with glass windows, hundreds of panes each encased by wooden braces painted milk-white. The entrance hall of the structure was created off the front of the three-story structure making the building have an L shaped look from the above. Shoots of ivy crept up the stone facade of the building, gripping the masonry with its viny fingers, defying the will of gravity as it climbed skyward.

With a familiarity that only would have been present in a person who had lived here long Adrian walked with him around the cul-de-sac like area around the fountain, and towards the foyer of the mansion and walked into the building, pushing the heavy oak door out of the way and entering.

The entrance of the manor was a lavishly decorated estate, but as his eyes ran over it he found them catching on a few things. There was a threadbare corner of the woven rug, half hid by a tall piece of pottery that should have been shifted a quarter-inch to the left to fully cover it. There were also other signs of the less than stately manner of well the manor. It would seem that hard times had even fallen on the field marshal’s family, was the kings spending so out of control as this?

It would not be the first time the population had suffered because of the king’s splendor.

He was left in his old chambers, it was just as he remembered it… it didn't take long for two brass tubs to be brought up and set in front of the fire, maids scurrying to and fro to bring hot water up. After shooing Heathri out he turned to the bath and the now roaring fire. Isi had already started stripping, there was no hesitation in her movement, the grubby clothes fell off of her gaunt figure, as the robes fell away it revealed her skin. He could make out each ridge of her spine, and her ribs were painfully apparent. The thing that caught his eye the most, however, was the thing that had always caught his eye.

The mess of ropey scars that ran from her shoulder blades down to her waist.

He didn't find them ugly, he had to right to judge, with an effort he shrugged out of his own clothes and sunk into the warm blissful water with a sigh of contentment. After all, his own back was scarred likewise. Isi dipped a toe in the water, pulling it back with a hiss before she once again put her leg in gingerly. Slowly she sunk into the tub, the water coming up to her mid sternum. The water turned a shade darker as the filth peeled off of her skin. Adrian glanced down at his own tub and chuckled.

The water was already a murky greyish brown, and he had yet to even start scrubbing. He had a feeling this was going to be the first of many baths today, the poor maids would be working very hard today it would seem...