Story of Raidarian Peace

CHAPTER 3 “THE LONELY WANDERER”

The lady who worked at the tavern approached the table where two men were sitting.

“Rein, would you and your friend like something else to drink?” she asked.

“Absolutely, my dear. As soon as I finish this,” replied Rein, glancing at his glass.

“Alright, I’ll come back in a couple of minutes,” she said.

“Sure thing,” Rein responded with a smile.

Most of Rein’s armor was covered by a dark cloak. It was evident that underneath it were the remnants of the armor of a Reydarian warrior, or rather, what was left of it. A Reydarian sword was visible at his back. However, nothing revealed his status as an outcast from the empire more than the brand on his left cheek.

Surrounded by a motley crew, difficult to categorize as human based on their behavior, Rein took a large glass and emptied its contents as if it were a mere glass of water.

“Well… What do you think of my thrilling story, Ain?” Rein asked the local drunkard sitting across the table.

“Won-derful, Uh-huh,” Ain responded, hiccupping and almost passing out right before Rein’s eyes.

Ain was an ordinary drunkard who looked like an old man, but determining his exact age was challenging. Despite his absurd appearance and the overwhelming stench emanating from him, despite excessive indulgence in the local brew, he behaved extremely politely. He rarely interrupted and almost never allowed himself to be unruly. He always tried to speak politely with people and only behaved recklessly when he was so drunk that he couldn’t control his own body. Rein found it difficult to imagine how a person with such manners could end up living such a life, so he drew parallels with himself and pictured Ain closer to old age.

Outside, thunder rumbled, and the night was coming to an end. The local tavern where Rein and Ain were situated was located on a high, expansive slope between two large villages, just beyond the borders of Reydaria but still in close proximity.

“Wishing you sweet dreams, Ain,” Rein said to the snoring drunkard.

“Saul? So that’s your real name,” came a voice from the side. “The man sitting with you may not be in his right mind, but it doesn’t mean everyone here is the same.”

“You! Whatever you heard – this whole story is nonsense,” Rein replied anxiously.

“Well, I don’t think so. I saw you in action when you scattered that Reydarian convoy like puppies. I thought, ‘What drives you? Just a thirst for loot?’ Now I understand. You fought not just to sell the spoils from that battle – you wanted to reclaim your own. The sword and armor. Reydarian ones. You could buy them, but now, with the local traders, it could cost a small fortune.”

“I don’t know where or when you saw, but I’m sure that was someone else. And even if I were the person you describe, you understand that this person, as you put it, dismantling Reydarian convoys like puppies, would hardly want everyone to know about him. And I’m afraid to even imagine what he would do to someone who goes against him and starts spreading the word about who he is. I hope that’s clear?” Rein said menacingly.

“Ah-ha. Don’t worry, I have no reason to spill anything about anyone. And all this tough look of yours. Nothing more than an illusion. Yes, I’ve heard the whole story, and you should drink less and talk less if you want to remain unnoticed in these parts. Honestly, I could have kept quiet altogether if I pursued such selfish goals. So, your threats are at least silly and entirely inappropriate.”

Rein, quite intoxicated, looked down.

“Indeed,” Rein thought.

“Forgive me if I said anything threatening, and for having to hear all this… Sometimes, someone needs to vent. My life… My whole life – it’s not a life at all. Fate has prepared an extremely unpleasant path for me, and it continues to laugh at me.”

Rein sat down at the table next to this stranger.

“Where’s your friend then? Won’t there be threats coming his way?” the stranger said, smiling.

“What? No. Ain… he’s harmless. I’ve already told him these stories more than once. Every morning he doesn’t even remember who I am. It’s some kind of madness!”

“Hmm,” the stranger smiled.

“At least take off your hood,” said Rein. “It’s unclear, are you even human?”

“And if I’m not human, then what?”

“I usually have a bad experience dealing with non-humans… And if you’re some kind of elf or even a force, which I strongly doubt, then I think I have nothing to worry about. In such places, they don’t tolerate elves and the like, so if anything, no one will believe you, which seems like a pretty good outcome to me.”

The stranger removed the hood and said, “Well, my name is Iziro.”

“You have a shaved head. And the name… You’re from the great mountains! Mountain monk. Are you one of them?”

“Yes, you could say that. But I was born in the capital of Raidaria and was once a warrior, far from the mountains.”

“So you’re one of us? A Raidarian. That explains your build. For a moment, I thought all those warriors from the mountains were like that. It’s even scary.”

“Haha, we’re not warriors, just defenders of our territories,” replied Iziro. “And you, I understand, think it’s all about how big you are? Right?”

“Excuse me, but size does matter. However strange or banal it may sound.”

“Although there are indeed tall and sturdy monks in the place I come from, most monks in the villages of Oi are much smaller than you – and they wouldn’t let you land a hit on them, let alone kill them. A big but slow warrior like you would be simply helpless against them.”

“And why, if they’re so strong and fast, does the Raidarians’ empire exist and not the empire of those bald mountain villagers?”

Iziro’s emotions changed slightly.

“At some point, if you’re not lucky to encounter an even stronger warrior on your path, you’ll understand.”

“You mean defeats in battles?”

“No! I mean endless victories,” Iziro replied sadly.

“And how?”

Rein didn’t have time to finish speaking when two Raidarian warriors entered the tavern. Iziro and Rein almost instantly pulled up their hoods. Everyone in the tavern, except for the arriving warriors, hid. All conversations abruptly ceased. Almost complete silence fell.

One of the warriors stepped forward, removed his helmet, and, looking around, began to loudly express his intentions in a commanding tone:

“Attention, please! We have information that people involved in the theft of the empire’s property may be in this area. Thieves,” he emphasized the word, “may or may have been in this tavern or nearby. We demand that anyone who knows anything about their whereabouts report it.”

After a short pause, the warrior continued:

“As besides everything else, gold has been stolen. For your assistance, you will be rewarded with this same gold. One to one for the amount stolen. We are not interested in your gold or your establishment; we only need the heads of the thieves. If you attempt to aid these thieves in any way, following foolish bravery, if it can be called that, you will be rewarded with death. And yes… fleeing from here is pointless! The tavern is surrounded – every entrance and exit is under our control.”

Two warriors began to inspect the tavern and its patrons. After some time, one of those sitting near the trio stood up and said:

“Here they are! It’s them you’re talking about. I heard… I heard everything. And he… he’s not an ordinary person, and the sword on his back is not ordinary. He’s a warrior just like you, only he’s been exiled.”

The gaze of everyone present turned towards the trio: Rein, Iziro, and Ainom.

“You! Stand up and turn around!” exclaimed the warrior.

Rein stood up and walked away from the table. Then, facing away from the warriors, he lowered his head and drew the sword from behind his back, placing its blade on the floor. He put his hand on the table and looked at Iziro and Ainom. Iziro continued to sit, and Ainom kept snoring.

“Even poor Ainom, you decided to involve. Well. We’ll talk about you later,” said Rein to the wandering traveler.

“My name is Acres, and I swear,” the traveler continued. “He said he can’t stand the empire for exiling him, and he will avenge it, no matter the cost. You can do whatever you want with us, but please spare at least my companion – Mirie. I beg you, be merciful, great warriors of the Raidarian Empire.”

“You and your companion have nothing to worry about,” replied the warrior. “As I said, you’re not of interest to us. You will receive your reward once we deal with these bold and shameful thieves.”

Rein snarled. He was extremely angry with this greedy and deceitful individual. Rarely did he want to kill someone so badly.

“Well, it seems that we can’t avoid a battle, right?” Rein said, looking at Iziro.

“Battles can always be avoided!” replied Iziro.

“Dying without accomplishing anything?” Rein asked.

“Silence, exile!” said the younger warrior.

“Traitor, who has so shamefully disgraced his name that even the right to a dignified death has been denied. Indeed, probably frustrating. But no matter… I will grant you that right. Even though you don’t deserve it,” declared the senior warrior.

Rein took off his hood but didn’t turn to face the warrior. The warrior approached Rein, drawing his sword from behind his back. When the warrior reached a close distance to Rein, everything fell silent. Not even the slightest whisper could be heard. Even the weather outside the tavern’s windows calmed. The warrior swung his sword to decapitate the traitor of his people and empire. However, at the moment the warrior’s sword approached Rein’s neck, Rein began to bend down, gripping the hilt of his sword with his hands for a counterstrike. The warrior’s sword passed so close to Rein’s head that it trimmed a part of his hair. Meanwhile, Rein’s sword was already moving upward towards the warrior’s head at a considerable speed, and the warrior had nothing to do but recoil in horror, moving backward away from Rein’s sword. As a result, the sword’s edge cut through the warrior’s armor along his entire torso, starting from the groin and ending on the warrior’s face, splitting his face into two almost equal parts.

“The problem is, I’m not just an ordinary traitor, but at least a trained one,” said Rein.

After that, Rein looked at the second warrior, who stood closer to the entrance of the tavern.

Although the warrior wore a helmet, it was evident that he was surprised and quite disoriented. Integrated into the armor of this warrior was a miniature arrow-firing device attached to a part of the armor on his forearm. This device resembled a rapid-fire crossbow without the usual stretched bowstring. The device only activated the bolt, housed in a casing, while the arrow’s tension occurred directly within the casing.

The warrior aimed the crossbow at Rein and fired several shots in succession, but Rein simply shielded himself with his hand, and all the arrows stuck in his armor.

“Don’t you know that arrows can’t penetrate Reinwood armor?” Rein asked the warrior in amazement. “You have one yourself. But a sword, if swung hard enough, can!”

After these words, Rein immediately, with a swing, forcefully threw his sword in the direction of the warrior, and then ran towards him. The warrior easily blocked the sword with his hand, and the sword didn’t even leave a dent on his armor. However, Rein, at a high speed, collided with the warrior, knocking him down and pummeling him on the helmet with great force.

While Rein was attempting to break through the helmet of the warrior he was fighting, another warrior emerged from the kitchen area. Without much hesitation, after seeing what was happening, this warrior moved to assist his comrade. But Acres, who had surrendered Rein, seemed to be waiting for this. As soon as the battle unfolded, he instantly positioned himself at the entrance to the kitchen, awaiting whatever might happen. Finally, the moment arrived. As the warrior barely started to move towards Rein, Acres followed behind him. And as soon as the warrior drew his sword to strike Rein, Acres stealthily stabbed a dagger into the gap between the warrior’s helmet and chest plate, precisely entering the warrior’s neck. The enraged warrior turned around and began swinging his sword towards Acres, but being agile enough, Acres evaded and retreated until the warrior, bleeding, simply fell from the loss of strength.

Rein, as if unaware of what was happening behind him, was consumed by rage and anger. When the warrior he was beating stopped offering serious resistance, Rein removed his helmet and continued relentlessly pounding him in this fit of fury. He clearly didn’t want to simply disable the warrior – his goal was the warrior’s death. Rein kept striking and striking, almost pulverizing. The face of the warrior less and less resembled a face, gradually turning into a beaten mess. After some time, Rein finally grew tired and slowed down. Then he saw before him the aftermath of what he had done. It was just an ordinary Raidarian youth who became a warrior. He was only following orders and nothing more. Realizing this, Rein understood what he had become. He felt repulsed by himself once again, contemplating what had happened, envisioning what actions could have prevented this.

Judging by himself, he knew that for a true Raidarian warrior, death was preferable to a life after defeat. He also understood that he couldn’t let any of them go, as they would then tell about him, complicating his life significantly. In the end, he convinced himself that it was unavoidable, and he did what he had to do.

Rein stood up from the fallen young warrior, lowered his head, and stood silently for some time. Then he quietly said, “You fought like true warriors. For a warrior, it’s an honor to die in battle.”

Iziro approached Rein, placed a hand on his shoulder, and said, “My friend, you have serious problems. Luck has once again eluded you! And over time, the problems that will follow you because of this will inevitably become more significant.”

Iziro removed his hand from Rein’s shoulder and walked towards the exit.

“You’re disappointed, aren’t you?” Rein said to him.

Iziro stopped in front of the tavern’s entrance but, after a second, opened the tavern door. He was blinded by the rays of the rising sun. He shielded his eyes from the incoming sunlight with his hand, walked out, then closed the door, gently slamming it shut.

Unexpectedly, a voice rang out, “Is it already dawn?”

It was the old man, Ainom. He nonchalantly walked past the fallen Raidarian warriors, the astonished patrons of the tavern, and its staff, as well as past Rein. Then, he stepped outside, leaving the tavern door open.

“Good morning, Ainom,” Rein whispered to himself.

After that, anger suddenly gripped Rein again. He surveyed the tavern and asked the present with a stern expression, “Where is this Acres? Where did he and his Miri vanish to?”

However, there was nothing but a prolonged silence in response. Rein slightly calmed down and continued, “If anyone happened to see where they went, please inform me!”

Then, breathing heavily, Rein headed towards the exit. The closer he approached, the stronger the rays blinded him. When he stepped outside, he immediately realized that he needed some time alone. He walked towards the slope, which offered a decent view of the sunrise and the lands not yet captured by the Raidarian legions. When he reached the spot, he abruptly collapsed, sitting on the grass and began to breathe rapidly, gazing at the ground. Fear enveloped him. Then, he lifted his gaze slightly higher to look at the scenery from the slope. Small hills, forests, fields, and the village where life was beginning to stir with the dawn were blanketed by the morning rays, reflecting off the ubiquitous morning dew.

Rein, contemplating this wondrous scene, pondered and realized the meaning behind Iziro’s words. After spending some time there, he returned to the tavern’s horse stable. Rein untied his horse, a rather unusual one. Aside from a playful spot on its side, it had strange curly fur and a quite thick mane. Mounting it, Rein headed towards the nearest village located atop the slope.

Approaching the village, he noticed a sign on a wooden post in the form of a wooden plaque with the carved text: “Village of Afles,” followed by the continuation, “Land of His Majesty King of the Last Kingdoms, Great Alex Ford.” The text concluded with the Ford family coat of arms – a winged giant harpy, shielded by a blue shield.

People began to cross Rein’s path, hastily leaving the village. Moving closer to the village center, he saw some commotion. He hurried to avoid drawing too much attention and walked with his horse, holding its reins.

People who were clearly disturbed by some event caught his eye more and more frequently.

“Easy, boy,” suddenly whinnied his horse.

“Hey, calm down, friend. I’m uneasy too. We’ll find out what’s going on here. Maybe it’s not as bad as it seems,” Rein said to his horse, stroking its cheek.

Meanwhile, from the village center came a voice:

“I remind you that any information about the Raidarian forces, such as their location or strength, provided to us – knights of His Majesty’s army – will be rewarded with thirty gold coins. It’s a substantial reward. We are also recruiting for His Majesty’s regular army with a monthly salary of fifty gold coins.”

These were King Ford’s people – his knights, his well-armed and trained elite guard. Riding on horses, five individuals with broad and dense metal shields on their backs came into view. They didn’t wear heavy and thick armor since, in most cases, it was simply impractical for them. Only shoulders, forearms, sides at waist level, groin, shins, and faces were protected by metal. This was necessary to perfectly combine acceptable protection with the agility and nimbleness that knights trained almost from birth. The main part of their attire was made of toughened leather from the thick-skinned bears roaming these forests. Their heads were covered with hoods made of this leather, while their faces were concealed behind a metal mask designed to intimidate the opponent. Handles of blades peeked out from sheaths attached to their belts. Special lightweight, ergonomic swords, resembling daggers. One of the five knights had a long bow instead of a shield on his back.

The village’s chief officer spoke to the people, distinguished only by a special mask on his face and specific patches on the lower part of the shoulders, indicating the warrior’s rank.

“It seems we don’t belong here, my friend,” Rein whispered.

Rein began to turn around with his horse amidst the crowd. One of the officers noticed this and swiftly rode towards Rein. He pushed through the people, unsheathed his sword, and aimed it at Rein’s neck from behind.

“You!” he said. “Show your face!”

Without turning, but only slightly tilting his head, Rein replied, “And why should I turn?”

“Don’t get insolent!” the knight retorted. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

The knight’s entourage began to surround Rein. Standing in place, Rein glanced around. To his left, an archer and an officer; to his right, the chief officer and another knight, all gripping the hilts of their sheathed swords except for the archer who was readying his bow and arrow. Rein envisioned the likely outcome of the situation, and it appeared unfavorable.

“Well, alright,” Rein said as the archer drew his bowstring. “I don’t want any trouble. I just came here in search of work.”

“What do you have behind your back?” asked the officer holding the sword to Rein’s throat.

Approaching from the front, the chief officer said, “Answer when a knight asks you something, or you’ll lose your head.”

Rein smoothly raised his hand and lifted the hood behind his head.

“You’ve caught me! It’s a sword. A Raidarian one. From Reinia.”

“So, you’re an exile?!” suddenly exclaimed the chief officer. “Well… An enemy of the empire is our friend. Bern, lower your sword!”

“But, sir,” objected Officer Bern, “he’s a Raidarian. He could be sent as a spy.”

“Enough of your objections! If the Raidarians brand their criminals like this, it’s worse than death for the criminal. Such a mark on his neck is eternal shame for a Raidarian. Lower your bow, Rich. He has clearly done something very bad to our enemies,” explained the chief officer. “You were looking for work, Raidarian – you’ll get it!”

“And what kind of work is this?” asked Rein.

“We need people for reconnaissance, but the locals seem to fear the raidarians more than anyone else. We need to scout the area near our borders. Ride as fast as you can in the direction of Aeris. If you reach our land borders and don’t notice anything unusual – meaning no raidarians on our lands – then return. But if you find something, return and report. Upon completion, you’ll receive twenty gold. Clear?”

“Clear,” replied Rain, “but why twenty? You promised them thirty.”

“Prove your loyalty, and next time it will be thirty gold,” said the chief officer.

“What if I refuse or change my mind about going to the border along the way?”

“Good question! If you refuse, my guys will have the pleasure of doing whatever they want with you.”

Rain felt uneasy at those words.

“Since I’m assigning you to the reconnaissance of a crucial path for us,” continued the chief officer, “you’ll go with Bern. You’ve already met him. If you turn back early, he’ll finish you. Trust me, he’s our champion in killing the likes of you.”

“What a tempting offer,” Rain said with a smirk. “In that case, it seems I have no choice. I agree.”

“Excellent! You’ll set out soon,” declared the chief officer.

“And one more thing… Can I ask?” Rain said.

“I’m listening,” the chief officer replied.

“Why all this? It wasn’t like this before. What’s happening here, anyway?”

“Don’t you really know?” the officer laughed. “We’ve received information that the empire is preparing a full-scale invasion for complete occupation. These beasts want to march through our land, putting village after village through the meat grinder. They want to take our lands and milk us like cattle.”

“Do you want to be put through a meat grinder?” the chief officer asked the people of the village loudly. “Do you want to be milked like cattle? If you don’t, then join the regular army or hurry away from the village towards Rinfoll. May the spirits of our ancestors and God help us.”

“Let’s go!” Officer Bern said somewhat discontentedly. “We’ll move along the Aisos River towards Aeris, parallel to the main trade route. I’ll give the signal. When everyone goes, you go too. I’ll be behind you.”

While most of the village residents and passing travelers hurriedly moved towards the village of Rosi, Rain, the knight watching him, and some others moved to the edge of the village towards the forest in the direction of the Aisos River.

“Leave the horse here,” said Bern.

“With him, I’ll definitely have a better chance of delivering the report to your commander,” Rain replied, objecting.

“No one will be upset if you don’t deliver it,” Bern replied with a smile. “But if you go there on horseback, you’ll attract more attention and might get ahead of the main wave, or even disappear from my sight and escape. So tie the horse there or leave it right here – makes no difference to me.”