Age of Kings

by A bag of plums

121 - Splitting the Party

Spectrum Song, Honeygold, and Guard Streak sat atop their steeds as they followed Rake and Stronghorn’s horses on their way to see the first jarl. They were still getting used to the freezing biome, but there wasn’t as much snow here, more of what Rake called ‘tundra’. They rode past a bubbling creek of crystal clear water, and spent some time letting the horses snack on some leafy ferns they were growing near the path.

“Ah, smell that breeze,” Golden Nugget sighed. “Nothin’ like the great outdoors to invigorate ya. That there’s some of the freshest air Ah’ve ever smelled, for sure.”

“Ah’d just like to get out of this weather.” His wife shivered and pulled at her furry hood atop her head. “We apple farmers ain’t bred for this sort’a ice. Honeygold, your vampire friend is cold enough as it is.”

“I wonder what this hold’s jarl is like,” Guard Streak said to Honeygold and Spectrum Song. “All these politics seem like a lot of stuff to remember.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Spectrum reassured him. “Talking to a bunch of jarls can’t be harder than what we’ve already done, right?”

“Ah don’t know ‘bout that…” Golden Nugget rubbed his chin. He had used a Northman’s razor to shave that morning and he felt he had missed a few spots. “Never been much one for all these pol-uh-ticks.”

“Is that what this is?” Honeygold asked, playing with a handful of snow. “Ya did tell us not to get so involved with those, right, Pa?”

“Ain’t like we got a choice now,” Apple Bean sighed and pulled her cloak around herself closer. “Em’s out there fighting the good fight, so we gotta do our part too.”

“I’ve never seen a fighter like your Emerald Edge,” Rake called back. He had sharp ears. “For a woman to single handedly destroy an army is something that not even the skalds have heard of before. I pity any foe that dares to stand between her and her goal.”

“Emerald Edge fights for peace,” Nightfall reminded him. “Tis Morn Dread who started this war, and now we have to finish it. And we will do it here with diplomacy.”

“Aye, so you say.”

They rode on in relative silence for an hour or so, making decent progress, if Rake’s words were to be trusted. The snow around them seemed to be not as deep, and here and there grew some shrubs and bushes that bore ripe, red and orange berries.

“Did you know that there are some fruits that actually grow better in colder weather?” Stronghorn said as he leaned out of his saddle to pick a berry off a bush he was riding past. “Just lucky for us, it’s the right season for these snowberries. The hold here makes mead with the berry juice mixed in. It’s a wee bit more tart than normal mead, but a mug of it gives a man strength and warmth to last for hours in the chill.”

“Fruits that grow well in the cold,” Apple Bean looked impressed. “Ah guess you learn somethin’ new everyday.”

As the day gave way to evening, small shapes on the horizon came into view. Shapes that looked like buildings and watchtowers. The questors felt themselves rejuvenated by the sight of the settlement, and sat up a little straighter in the saddle.

“Ah, we’re almost there,” Stronghorn laughed. “I’d forgotten what this place looked like. With Nidaroats being under siege, traveling has gotten harder. But we’re almost there. We’ll have some warm mead and hot meat tonight!”

From here, the city of Stockhorse was a slight bit uglier than the capital of Nidaroats. The city walls were low, almost low enough for someone to climb over if they tried, and the archway above the entrance was made of wood, where two archers were positioned.

The guards saw Stronghorn coming and they took one step to the side and raised their weapons slightly higher.

“Ho, Thane of Nidaroats!” one of them greeted. “How fares the high king?”

“I bring news from Nidaroats from the high king, as well as a proposition for the jarl!” Stronghorn shouted back up. “All shall hear my tale tonight, but first, my companions and I will be needing bed and board. It has been a long journey.”

“Yes, of course!” One of the archers shouted over to someone on the other side of the wall, barking quick orders. There was the sound of footfalls and the archer nodded in satisfaction. “Come, Thane of Nidaroats, we will take care of your steeds and get you comfortable. Then you can tell us about what has happened.”

“News doesn’t exactly travel quickly in this land, does it?” Jewel Pin asked nobody as they rode their horses under the archway. There was a portcullis suspended above, but it was frozen over and didn’t look like it was functional at the moment.

“Nay, lassie. News does not travel fast here,” said Rake. “Lone traveling messengers don’t survive very long in the wildlands between holds.”

“Ah’m not surprised,” Honeygold said to Spectrum Song and Guard Streak. “There’s a lot more space between them holds for hungry animals to lurk in.”

Spectrum nodded in agreement. “But we should be safe now inside the walls. I wonder if I can get me some ice-resistant lute strings. My normal ones’ve frozen and are starting to split.” She plucked at her frost-covered lute and was rewarded with an off-key note from the instrument. “I’ll need to re-tune it as well, dash it all.”

“Dash?” Honeygold asked, knocking some snow out of her ear. “Why’s that?”

“I said… never you mind,” Spectrum huffed. “Let us just get out of this cold. I would like to have the warmth of a fire on my back.”

Following Stronghorn, they left their steeds in the stables and went inside with the assurances of the stablehands that their horses would be well cared for.

“Whee-eeo!” Honeygold exclaimed as she entered the jarl’s longhouse. “Finally, somewhere warm and toasty!” She rubbed her hands together, happy to see the roaring fire in the center of the interior. “Aw yesssssssss…”

Spectrum Song and Guard Streak soon joined her by the fireside, sighing in relief as the heat of the flames thawed their frozen limbs. The adults followed, though in a more controlled manner. Stronghorn chuckled at the sight and went off to speak with another northman as the mages began discussing diplomacy tactics with one another.

There were a number of burly, warrior-looking types scattered around the edge of the longhouse, some of them holding tankards and horns from which they would occasionally drink. They watched the newcomers from the shadows, but otherwise made no move to interact with them.

Ahead, all the way to the end of the long hearth was a man with golden straight hair and a long braided beard. He watched them through red eyes and leaned on one hand as he took them in with intrigue. He waved at a steward and he ran off into the shadows of the building.

“Stronghorn, Thane of Nidaroats. It is an honor to welcome the High King’s own.” He bent his head and tapped a silvery ring on his left index finger. “I, Jarl Valor Flag, welcome you to Stockhorse, home to the fabled Mayon Ace of high standing.”

“Mayon what?” Spectrum asked blankly. She looked at Honeygold and Guard Streak, who both shrugged.

“Maybe it’s an important landmark?” Guard Streak guessed.

“Nay, the Mayon Ace is more than just a landmark.” Rake beat a hand to his chest. “It is a pride of the Frozen North.”

“But ya said it was fabled,” Honeygold said. “That means it ain’t real.”

Jarl Valor Flag chuckled. “You remind me of myself when I was a whelp,” He said to Honeygold. “Always questioning how the world works. Tis a good trait to have, young one. It means you are on the road to wisdom.”

Honeygold beamed at this praise, while the other vikings around them looked at her with newfound approval.

“Now where are my manners?” Valor Flag asked, clapping his hands. A steward hurried forward, and the jarl spoke a few sentences to him in the Northern tongue. “There will be mead and meat for all. Something to warm the bones after a long journey, and I often find that tales are best told with a full belly and warm feet.”

Valor Flag was as good as his word. In no time at all, all of the party was seated before the fire and dining on roasted mutton and pork, while the mead and ale flowed freely. The hall was filled with the sound of chatter as the vikings recited ballads and engaged in bouts of flyting with one another.

“Not a bad welcome, as far as things go,” Jewel Pin said as she gnawed on a leg of goat, the juices running down her chin and dripping onto the table beneath her. “This is why I’m glad I’m not a vegetarian. These northmen certainly know how to welcome guests.”

“Wouldn’t mind me a few veggies myself, though,” Golden Nugget said as he sipped at his mug of mead. “But Ah ‘spect they don’t grow too well in this cold.”

Meanwhile, the three young ones were being entertained by a group of four viking children, two of which looked older than Spectrum Song and Guard Streak, while the remaining two were even younger than Honeygold. They were all sitting around a smaller fire, listening in rapt attention.

“An’ then, Emerald Edge drew her sword and joined the battle with the chort,” Honeygold said excitedly, reciting the story of the battle with the black beast under the mountain. “The chort tried to smash her beneath its feet, but Em was way too quick for ‘em. She was like lightning, jumping all around and dodgin’ everything the chort could throw at her. Whoosh, snick, roar!”

“What happened next?” The youngest viking child asked eagerly.

Light Speckle and Nightall Gleam sat close by, talking with Rake the Red over some mugs of ale, all of them seeming to be in high spirits.

“So, what do you think about our chances with Jarl Valor Flag?” Light Speckle asked Rake. “Do you think he will heed High King Magnus Rein’s call?”

“Valor Flag is a stout northman, but an upright fellow,” Rake said, taking a bite of meat and washing it down with a gulp of ale. “I think if we are polite about it, he will join the alliance.”

“Emerald Edge and the others are counting on us to gather the holds,” Nightfall said, clenching her fist around the handle of her mug. “She’s in Prance fighting for everyone; we have to do our part as well.”

“And we will, don’t you worry, lass,” Rake assured her. “The High King owes Emerald Edge a great deal, his life and his city even. An honorable northman would sooner fall on his own sword than dishonor such a debt.”

“Are all northmen as honorable as you and the High King?” Nightfall asked.

“Ha! Of course… not!” Rake laughed darkly. “There are good men and bad men no matter where you go. Not every man in these lands cares for honor and bravery. Some are craven cowards who would rather thieve and backstab than do a day of honest work. Nay, spellcaster. Not all northmen are honorable.”

“Aye…” Light Speckle agreed. “It shouldn’t be that surprising anyway. We thought that Dawn Saber’s knights were honorable men as well. Now they are our mortal enemies, fighting on the side of evil. Tis a terrible truth, but a truth that we must face and accept nonetheless.”

The mages seemed to settle into a brood, both of them thinking about everything that had happened to them so far, both the good and the bad, but mostly the bad.

Rake seemed to sense something was wrong and coughed to get the mages’ attention. When that didn’t work, he slammed his fist on the table, making the food and drinks jump slightly.

“How about a story?” He suggested. “I would like to know more about the Raven Knight herself, Emerald Edge. She fights like no warrior I have ever seen or heard of, and she battles the invader king, Morn Dread, with such vigor.” Rake leaned forward onto the table, eagerness shining in his eyes. “What is her history with Canterlot and Morn Dread? Did he do something to Emerald personally for her to oppose him so strongly? I would wager a purse full of bits that it is a rare and thrilling tale.”

Light Speckle and Nightfall Gleam exchanged looks.

“Well, Emerald was once a knight serving under the previous king of Canterlot,” Light Speckle said slowly. “She used to know Morn Dread and all the other Knights of the Round Table very well.”

“Round Table?” Rake echoed.

“It’s what the highest ranking knights called their order,” Nightfall supplied speedily. “They call it that because they all sat around, well, a round table.”

“I see,” Rake said, slowly taking a sip of his ale. “But why was the roundness of the table so important that they named their warband after it?”

“I think the idea was that the table was round so that nobody could be in a position of favoritism,” said Light Speckle. “Everyone is on even ground.”

“But then how do they know who is the best warrior?” Rake asked, scratching his scarlet beard. “If there is no position of honor, then what do they do about that?”

“I am not so sure of the details,” Nightfall said peevishly. “But it seemed to have worked until Morn Dread went mad.”

“He went mad?” Rake repeated. He looked between the two mages.

“Aye,” Nightfall confirmed. “It was because he found out that he was the king’s illegitimate son and wanted to take the throne. When King Dawn Saber refused to acknowledge Morn’s claim, he lost it and killed the king, then took control of the kingdom. Emerald Edge has never forgiven him for it.”

“And now he has taken to conquering the world,” Light Speckle said. “I know not what twisted reasoning he applies to his campaign, but we have to stop Morn Dread or he will plunge the lands into disorder and despair, like he has done to Canterlot. Even now, countless people suffer under Morn Dread’s iron rule, and those who do not comply are indoctrinated by the magic of his sword.”

“Yes, his sword is like Magnus Rein’s axe and possesses great powers,” Rake said, thinking back to the battle of Nidaroats. “Such instruments should only be wielded by those who have the self restraint to not use them for evil.”

“Mmhmm…” mumbled Light Speckle, taking a gulp of her ale. The taste of berries and honey washed over her tongue, almost too sweet for her liking. “Everything happened so quickly that by the time we gained our bearings, Morn was already king and had mind controlled everyone to accept his claim. Anyone who stands in his way is either killed or indoctrinated into his army.”

“And now he plans to take his conquest all over the world,” Rake finished. “This is not a cheerful tale, but I do not yet think it has reached its conclusion. There is time yet to compose a happy ending, I think.”

Nightfall and Speckle smiled at Rake, who grinned back.

“I hope you’re right,” Nightfall said at last. “It is only through friendship and cooperation that we’ve even managed to be this successful against Morn. We cannot fight him alone.”

“And you will not be alone,” Rake said earnestly. “That is why we are going from hold to hold, to gather the strength of the jarls and their people. No matter how hard things get, know that High King Magnus Rein and his people are behind you. We are united now, against a common foe.”

“Thank you, Rake,” Nightfall said gratefully. She took out her snuffbox and tipped out a little of its contents into her palm, then sniffed it. “I just hope Emerald and the others have reached Prance safely. If previous experience is anything to go by, ousting Morn from Prance will be no small task.”

---

Emerald Edge smelled the scent of smoke and soot long before she saw its source. Several dark columns of choking smog could be seen from miles away, rising into the overcast Prench skies.

Sombra rode his trusted steed beside Emerald’s horse looking grimly ahead as they crested over a hill, with the other two not far behind.

In the distance was a sprawling city that rivaled Canterlot in size. A river ran alongside the walls, and there were fields and farmland surrounding it. The effect was slightly spoiled by the dark masses of Unified soldiers crowding around the city with siege engines as well as the numerous fires that burned throughout the city’s streets.

“Prance needs our help,” Emerald murmured. She clenched a fist around the reins in her hands, feeling the anger building. Morn’s madness had claimed so many lives, and she had never felt so furious, unless she counted when she had first left Equestria to embark on this desperate quest.

Sombra reached over and touched Emerald’s forearm. “Do not worry. We will succeed here, and return peace to the people of Prance.”

Sombra’s words were like a quenching blanket over a fire, and Emerald slowly unclenched her hand, reaching up to brush a lock of her sparkling hair from her eyes.

“You’re right, Sombra.” She cast her eyes on the horizon, then back at her companions. “Together, we can accomplish anything.”

“Yep, you betcha!” Parisa’s shrill voice chirped. “Watch out, Unified! Here we come!”

---

Comments

[Marcthelightspark2004]

Oh, things are heating up! Morn Dred continues to be formidable in his conquest, the Unified attacking Prance.

As for the Jarl, Valor Flag seems an honorable man. Rake continues to be good company in their adventure as well. The Vikings all around seem to be rather honorable and the like.

I also found Rake's confusion amusing as for why the table was round and why they named their warband for it.

[MoonlightRift]

we're so fucking back, though it's foggy in my mind all the events of the story

Not to make any promises, but I may or may not be gearing up for a reread of this entire universe. Perhaps I'll do it chronologically this time to be different, but no clue just yet. Trying to get back into fanfiction reading. I'd probably space each story between two other fics because damn are these long.