The Forgotten

Lynden spared another glance at the men he had just killed, with no remorse he walked with both weapons in his hands pointing towards the ground. Having no plan, he was going against what he had always been taught and what he had always taught himself. He had little time and was relying on his skill and the backup of his friends to be successful. Although the knight hated putting others at such risk.

He made his way to the town square where the market was held. In its current state, many stalls had been cleared, the remaining left deserted leaving pots, food and clothing scattered about. To the middle of the square there were the hanging beams placed on a stage with four ropes on them. To the left, there was also an executioner wearing a black leather mask of a hawk and wearing no top, displaying his torso spattered with blood. Already there were heads in a basket, freshly cut from the morning’s riots, Lynden just hoped it was not Rendall or Arthur.

A small crowd had gathered around. Most seem to be the lowlifes of the city, thugs, cutthroats and thieves although some common folk were there.

Behind the stage stood a staircase with a black and gold throne above it. The king wore a black robe with the hood up.

Whispering to himself Lynden grumbled, “Myval.”

Lynden gripped his weapons feeling a cold rage overtake him. Before walking forward in an attempt to single-handedly take him on, he saw a line of people approach from a street that went to the keep, guards on horseback followed by a host of prisoners who were tied up.

All the prisons had their faces to the floor. There were too many to count, but there was a series of single file lines set up ready to receive their judgement.

“My people, it seems there has been a rebellion gathering in our walls.”

Myval paused, ensuring he had everyone’s attention before continuing, “Today we have crushed all who stood against us, though some still were in our prison. I’m here with you to send a message to those who believe they can get away with it. Those behind me will be put to death by the axe or the noose.”

The lowlifes cheered and clapped to the announcement, only thinking of how they could loot and make money from all the death today.

Lynden watched in horror, seeing the men and women behind the executioner’s block. Many were innocent.

Not a bystander, the commander of the Knights of Valok and the ex-general of the King’s army, Lynden stepped into the market place dropping his mace to the ground, no one noticing him yet. He unstrapped the horn from his belt. Before blowing, he made a silent prayer to the gods that this isn’t a mistake. A second later, the horn is at his lips and he blew. It was a deep bellow of an announcement to the whole city and beyond. He blew until all air left his lungs, hoping it would be enough.

As Lynden took the horn away from his mouth, he saw everyone look upon him.

A menacing laugh could be heard from the throne, his face covered but all know it is the king.

“Ah, the leader of the rebellion himself arrives. I like the new armour. I am impressed you hid it this long.”

Inspecting the armour with a fine eye, Myval continued, “And is that the general uniform? Impressive indeed, especially when it was assumed you were all dead.”

Lynden ignored the king’s attempt to taunt him. Instead he walked forward, reciting the code he lived by most of his life, “I am the watcher, I am the protector. Serving the people in the face of corruption and evil.”

The first thug reaches Lynden taking a downward blow at the knight’s head. Parrying the blow with almost no effort, Lynden forced the thug’s sword wide while slipping his blade down through the thug’s neck cutting the jugular. The thug dropped his sword as Lynden continued reciting his oath.

“My life for theirs, every man, woman and child I swear to uphold the tenets.”

Another cutthroat rushes, this time throwing a knife at Lynden. It was a good throw aimed towards the neckline of Lynden’s armour. It could have killed him, but as quick and as calm as ever the knight walked steadily forward knocking the blade from the air with his sword.

As soon as the blade hit the ground, the cutthroat leapt at Lynden, holding two more knives high. As if it didn’t matter, Lynden evaded the approaching leap, the cutthroat hitting the floor in a crouch. Lynden turned only a fraction, stabbing down at his opponent piecing their back, ending their life.

“Justice, honour, courage, freedom, loyalty.”

Another from the crowd lashes out, though meeting only thin air. The attacker was clearly a novice seeking to make a name for themselves. Lynden steps in, turning in a low crouch and stabbing the attacker through the thigh, only wanting to remove them from the fight rather than killing them.

The knight in front of them continues, “Today I am reborn a brother, a general and a servant. I will see them free”.

Lynden sheaths his one-handed sword, the crowd now several paces back not getting any closer after witnessing how easily he could cut down people. He instead moved his hand to the ruby encrusted hilt on his back. Forever a knight of justice, he drew out the black blade from his back in an easy stroke. It was nearly five foot long, the metal glimmering in the light.

Seeing the blade, the crowd had now got even further back, some even looking around trying to find a way to escape the situation.

“Well if I thought all the generals of the order had gone, I certainly thought that those blades were destroyed.”

Myval hadn’t shown any worry as he stuck down three people with no more effort than he would breathe. Maybe it was because he had nearly two hundred guards with him now, not including those in the crowd that would still fight. Or perhaps he knew Lynden would never get close to him as at worst he would draw power from the low life convicts if he had to.

“Tell me, at least is it true those blades give the bearer strength to topple armies?”

Before engaging with the first of the guards, Lynden said, “No man or weapon has that power. It is a call to show the world that you don’t have to follow tyrants such as you.”

In an effort to demoralise the guards, Lynden swung his sword with enough power that the first guard’s parrying blow was useless. The guard’s blade shattered on impact, causing Lynden’s black blade to follow through to the guard’s head, cutting it clean off as it rolled to the floor.

-

Celer had been getting restless in the days that had passed since she had met Lynden. She had ran back to the forest after he had left to gather her brothers and sisters who had joined her. They all now sat or laid in the surrounding area of the hill, Celer however, sat with her senses on high alert waiting for the call.

Her distress became more pronounced when she started seeing smoke rise from the town. She hadn’t seen much of humanity’s settlements, although she believed it to be strange that patches of thick black smoke would rise out nowhere.

Rising and running to the highest point, her nose crinkled at the ash in the air. She began to pace from side to side not taking her eyes of the town unless she missed something.

The sun continued to move slowly through the sky and as it was nearing the end of its daily cycle, she heard it.

The low rumble of the war horn echoed for miles and as one all the wolves howled in response, Celer being the loudest of them all.

It only lasted a few seconds before all of them were sprinting down the hill and through the trees. Running fast, Celer led with her pack behind her ready to kill anyone who stood in their way.