A Tale of Blades & Blood-Chapter 28: The City of Westhold

[Orevian's Point of View]

I heard many tales of the west having walls as high as can be and houses able to keep out the cold, but they never told me about the beauty of it all. Westhold was large, and Westhold Keep was even bigger, with a large, thin tower as high as can be protruding from the main building, a large mansion as heavily fortified as Ororer's Keep.

The city was amazing. The bustling crowds were lively- more lively than the ones at Trayne's End. I could hear music even as we had just entered. The sound of flutes and lyres echoed throughout the city. The market was everywhere. Where my eyes looked, there was at least one person who sold either bread or tools.

The city guards patrolled around the city on horseback, and each held a sword at the ready. The buildings were high and mighty, and the streets were surrounded by posts with lanterns on top to light the way at night. The sound of blacksmiths pounding metal against metal could be heard everywhere, making for a soft and pleasant melody.

We could see the rich and simple alike. While the rich men wore colorful robes and gowns of purple, yellow, green, and blue, the simple wore brown and white, with others having only designs painted on their clothing. There was also a travelling circus in one of the many squares in the city, with men who whipped exotic lions into doing tricks, and others who dressed up as jesters and rode on a vehicle with only one wheel, trying their best to balance before falling and giving the children a good laugh.

The streets here were made of stone, and walls could be seen everywhere dividing the city into districts, much like those in Ten Towns. It was all so... beautiful.

Loran was the one at watch duty, and it was Ser Merill who now slept soundly inside the carriage. Lady Norien was also inside the carriage, playing with Caeris the black rabbit, teaching him tricks... and even more tricks. I sat with Loran at the front, admiring the city and its utter liveliness.

Throughout the long journey to the keep, nobody spoke a word besides the occasional affirmations Lady Norien would give to the party's pet and Ser Merill's grunts and snores.

We reached the inner wall of the city, moving closer to the gatehouse of the keep's wall. The further inside we got, the more crowds there were, and the more music that filled the air, but something else lingered in the atmosphere... the smell of food.

"Gods..." Loran began, clutching at his stomach, "...curse whoever's making that meat pie." he laughed.

I laughed with him. True, I wanted to say, I'm starving and we haven't even broken our fast. "How many gold coins left in the purse?" I asked, getting whiffs of turkey, chicken, beef, pastries, and... meat pies.

"About twenty gold." he replied. "Not worth spending on meat pies, though. We've got a longer journey ahead of us other than one of food." he said jokingly.

"A man gets hungry." I told him. "I can't imagine you'd be starving as well since the time we continued the ride with no breakfast-"

"Aye." he replied, his eyes squinting and his feet tapping on the wooden floor. "An entire morning without eating anything is cruel enough. Ride through the streets with vendors stocked with food is-"

"Torture, I know." I remarked, making a smile to lighten the mood. Ever since we arrived at the city's outskirts, most of the party has been nervous about the meeting with the lords of the west. Worshipers of the god of fire, I remember Ser Merill said, barbarians and savages who burn their men as sacrifice.

I spent so long in thought I didn't realize I was staring at nothing. "Hey." Loran called, waving his hand in front of my face. "What's the matter with you- all nervous like this?" he asked, his hand resting on the seat. "You got a good tongue, Orevian; use it with those 'barbarians' Ser Mer's been talking about-"

"Ser Mer?" I asked. "You mean-"

"Merill or Mer- it's the same shit when you look at it." he remarked. "Don't be nervous. You're the rightful heir to the throne for goodness' sake. Act like it." he said sternly, pointing at me with his finger.

An heir, yes, I wanted to say, but a brave man? Hell no.

"You haven't known me if you think I'm brave..." I told him, "...I'm scrawny, scared, and neat, not like other northern folk, but I still got the blood of one, I suppose-"

"A blood of a fucking king!" he exclaimed as he nudged me with his elbow. Soon, the both of us finally laughed again.

"Aye, it's true..." I told him, "...but what kind of a king am I? I want vengeance, yes- but I'm not some skilled warrior-commander or those knights in tales-"

"Not a warrior?" he asked as if outraged. "Not a fucking warrior, you say?" he scoffed, shaking his head. "You survived an ambush in a wedding..." he began, counting his fingers, "...fought off a band of bandits with no more than a sword- even killing a giant of a man -and you call yourself not a warrior-"

"Do you think I've been to a battle myself, Loran?" I asked, my tone taking on a half-serious and a half-joking stance. "No. I'm seventeen and I still haven't fought a single battle in my life-"

"You think the only battles are the ones with swords?" he asked.

Hasn't it always been? I wanted to ask. It has always been about that, Loran, blades of steel. "Of course..." I answered, "...blades and blood. Always has been like that for centuries-"

"Really?" he asked, dumbfounded. "When you think that you're an unworthy to be king but something inside you says otherwise, isn't that a battle with yourself? When you are struggling to find who you are, isn't that a war for your identity?"

The idea was none the less confusing. How can one fight himself? It's so... foolish, I wanted to say. For a moment, I gave nothing but a confused look. "A battle with one's self..." I began, "...that's something I've yet to see." I replied.

"Ah!" he exclaimed. "But you've already had, Orevian." he remarked, looking me in the eye. "Every day since the day we met, you've been struggling to figure out who you are. Many times, I thought you finally found it, but now you've gone back and started from the beginning-"

"Wait..." I began, cutting him off, "...me? You're saying I am fighting against myself and this is why I'm like this?" I laughed the idea off. "It's a stupid notion- a man can't fight himself; otherwise, he'd feel the pain, then, he'd stop then and there!" I exclaimed, though I still pondered on the topic. A man cutting himself without noticing it... now, THAT is a different kind of fool.

"That's the thing, though..." he began, "...most men don't realize it until someone tells them." he remarked. He clutched at his stomach tighter. "Seriously, somebody needs to tell these vendors to not make tempting food-"

"We can stop for food, Loran..." I told him with a chuckle. I'm hungry, too, I realized. It was already nearing noon, and I'm sure the lady and the knight inside the carriage are craving as well. I didn't realize the carriage had already stopped at the side of the road. "Get the purse inside, Loran, and-"

"No need to tell me twice." he remarked as he stood at the side of the cart, holding the purse that contained our gold. "The lady wants whatever we can get her, the knight's craving nothing but sleep, and Ser Caeris wants a carrot-"

"Ser Caeris?" I asked. "The rabbit's a knight now?"

"Get down and let's eat. Ser Mer's agreed to guard the carriage while we get our stomachs full and eat like kings." he remarked impatiently.

I did not need to be told twice.

I got off the carriage down as fast as I could. Both of us ran off to the nearest vendor who sold... Dear gods, I thought to myself, the meat pies. It did not take a Ravenman to tell us this is what we needed. All it took was a quick glance at the meat pie, then, at each other, for us to have bough three pies and a carrot for the price of twenty-one silver heads. The kind lady gave the carrot for free.

Lady Norien was never the less surprised, and the very aroma of the meat pies had awoken the knight. Caeris the rabbit, on the other hand, went straight for the carrot.

"How much did you spend on these meat pies?" Lady Norien asked as if interrogating us.

"Twenty-one silver heads for the pies and the carrot came free." Loran answered. "My lady, you wanted whatever we could provide, and this is what we could provide-"

"How can we finish three meat pies in a single sitting?" she asked, still surprised the the sheer amount we had bought. "Surely, the both of you boys won't eat them all-"

"Of course not." we both said at the same time, trying our best to act as serious as possible.

"We would never-"

"-ever-"

"-do such a thing." I replied, making my face as straight as possible.

Soon, Lady Norien had eaten, and so did Ser Merill. Both of them finished one pie and were already full. Me and Loran continued on our way to Westhold Keep, slowly eating away at the remaining two. Caeris, on the other hand, was now the one who slept.

As we reached the gatehouse to the keep's grounds, we were stopped by the guards, who wore little steel armor, mostly covered in leather padding. They held halberds, not spears nor swords. Their armor was designed nicely, with one having a rusted figure of a gryphon, while the other had a design that matched that of a phoenix, which was newer and certainly more grander.

"Halt!" one of them exclaimed. "What business do you have inside the keep grounds?" he asked. His voice is softer than what a man's should be, I thought to myself. Gentle, quiet, sincere... not what a guard should sound like.

Loran answered. "We must speak with the lord of House... um..."

"House Faerelion." I replied, saving him from an embarrassing moment. "We must speak with House Faerelion urgently." I repeated.

"We?" the other guard asked. "How many are you?"

"Four, Ser-"

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

"Five if you count the rabbit!" Loran remarked, cutting me off.

Without hesitation, the guards began to search the carriage. It was not long until they gave us the signal to go. "You may see Lord Baeron in his throne room, but leave all your weapons behind at the door to his chambers." he remarked, lifting up the gates and letting us through.

The keep was larger than expected. The main building was tall, reaching a third of the height of the tallest mountain in the Nortenhein. The windows were decorated with carved stone frames, each one depicting either a historical event or a gargoyle, a flying infant bared with fangs for teeth.

The main entrance to the keep itself was large in itself, as tall as two small houses, made out of wood and metal. We stop the carriage near the entrance, where it was soon put aside by the castle servants. We were all accompanied by a soldier, each one holding a sword and a shield, and each one assigned a different person to look after.

My escort was the second smallest of them all, wearing shining armor with a phoenix on his breastplate. A new soldier, I thought, a castle guard? That's quick for a young knight. His face was hidden by his helmet, but the small strands of black hair escaped the back of his head wear.

Soon enough, after climbing stairs and walking through hallways decorated with brown and orange tiles, we reached the entrance to the throne room of the high lord of the west, which was bordered a hanging balcony, guarded by ten more armored men, but these were taller, stronger, and from the looks of them, better.

As the guard at the gate had told us, our weapons were held temporarily at the entrance, each confiscated by our own assigned escorts. Loran gave up a small dagger he had picked up, Lady Norien gave her crossbow, and Ser Merill gave his sword, and he wasn't too happy about it either. I gave my sword as well, and we entered the open throne room.

Lord Baeron himself sat at the highest chair at the center, surrounded by four chairs, two on each side, where men in robes sat, most of them old, with their hands folded. As it seemed, they got older the closer they got to him. Now, it was time for the grand introduction... but how?

Soon, my sweat trickles down my very temples, and my hands clench, nails digging into my palms. Words... words... I had them before, but now they escape my grasp. Words! I need words! No... not now... why now? I asked in my head. For a moment, I even forget my name, my identity, and my memories of anything else. I trembled within.

The lord grew impatient. "What is your business?" he asked. "Tell it all, for I am Lord Baeron of House Faerelion, High Lord of the Rocklands and Protector of the Region. Speak, commoner!" he commanded.

You have the very blood of kings and warriors... I remembered, but I did not know where. This path has led you to a different Orevian... and he must remember who he is.