Outside the walls

Commander Eshenesra rode out through the smallest of the city gates. He refused to allow the great gate to be opened with the Meazyr forces camped outside the walls. He took with him ten men,  Lieutenant Commanders, and guards, good soldiers all.

 

They rode proudly, backs sword straight on their war horses, it was not yet so dire that they were starved or that the horses were at risk of being eaten. As they passed through the ranks of fierce Meazyr warriors the Commander thought he recognized one, standing outside near the tent that bore the banner of the Bloody Prince, as he had come to be called among the men driven back into Vells. A black flag that bore the traditional Meazyr symbol of the tree of memory, but this tree had blood red roots and silver leaves, the trunk was an arm and the branches were squeezed between the fingers of the closed fist.

 

Unlike most princes, this one walked the field like he had something to prove. When he stepped out of the tent to greet the Commander his face was scarred and he looked dour, the fans of his ears were torn in places and hung with silver chains. Even so, the Commander was struck by the fact that he looked young. As the Commander approached he noticed the weapon in the Prince’s hand.

 

“Such meetings are customarily conducted without weapons.” He spoke coolly approaching within striking distance and holding himself as if he had no fear, not of the Prince and not of the army that surrounded him.

 

The Bloody Prince looked smug and self-assured. “Je fearchtest mina handt?”

 

“Do you not honor the traditions of war, Bludtenprinz?” He looked the young man in the eye and saw a boy’s arrogance in a man’s body.

 

The Prinz looked pleased with the name. “Komst oder nee?” He turned and strode back inside, leaving the Commander to follow or turn back.

 

The Commander scowled and stepped into the tent, as was tradition, two men followed and the rest waited outside on guard. The Prince had four waiting inside. Like Tanric, the Commander thought, no respect for tradition, no manners and a dangerous amount of arrogance.

 

The talks did not go well. The Commander had been forbidden to surrender by Tanric, and the Meazyr Prince would accept nothing but. He did not expect the Bloody Prince to offer the traditional food and wine that ended the talks, so he chose to break tradition himself and call them to an end by asking a favor.

 

“Before we leave, since you have done away with the old traditions, I would ask a favor. You have a leathersmith among your men, I saw him as I arrived. He is from Redreath and well known to me, I would speak to him.” The Commander schooled his face and took a tone of command as if he were sending one of his own soldiers on an errand.

 

“Ent why would I allow je dat?” The Bloody Prince’s eyes glittered as he bristled under the tone.

 

“Because my sister is his wife. She has asked me, if possible, to get him a message. And I would assume, with the way your men follow you, you do not deny them word from home.” The Commander smiled grimly.

 

The Prince’s face became unreadable, but he gestured to one of his guards to seek the man. The Commander heard the bellowing outside as he called for the Redreadtledersmed. Bulol was ushered in with surprising speed.

 

“Gebst jer botschaft.” The Prince made no move to leave.

 

“Mina frey?” Bulol asked as if he feared the answer.

 

“She sends her love. She wants you to come home safe after the war. If I don’t tell you you’re welcome back in Redreath she’ll have my hide.” Eremur smiled sadly and Bulol barked a relieved laugh.

 

“Ent mina Woldblum? Ze werdt stark und schoon?” The Commander heard the wistfulness as if the Meazyr were asking after his own daughter.

 

He nodded hesitantly, earning a look from Bulol that demanded an answer. “She gave my sister hell after you left. She still won’t speak of you.” He sighed. “You broke her heart. But she’s still strong and more lovely every time I see her.” He took in the heartsick look on Bulol’s face and added, “She’s no longer allowed to fight, her grandfather’s decree after she battered her eldest cousins and menaced one with his own knife. I thought of you when I saw her standing over the two bloodied little lords. They thought she’d be unable to defend herself from their bullying, just because she’s smaller and younger. It got her sent back to Redreath with a host of etiquette teachers.”

 

They shared a grim smile between them for a moment before the Commander stood and offered his arm to his brother, they clasped them firmly. “I’d ask if you'd like me to send a message back but it may be some time before I return home.” Bulol grinned at the Commander’s wry words.

 

“Kanst glaubn, brotter.” The Commander grinned back at the pride in Bulol’s voice.

 

His grin faded as he released Bulol’s arm and turned back to the speculatively watching Prince. “I thank you.”

 

He gestured to his men and they filed out silently behind him.

Author's Note

“Je fearchtest mina handt?” - You're afraid of my hand?
Bludtenprinz - Prince of blood
“Komst oder nee?” - Are you coming or not?
Redreadtledersmed. - Redreath leathersmith
“Gebst jer botschaft.” - Give your message.
“Ent mina Woldblum? Ze werdt stark und schoon?” - And my Forest flower? She's growing strong and beautiful?
“Kanst glaubn, brotter.” - You can believe it, brother.