The Black Sword Trilogy: The Poacher (34 page)

“However,” Erlot stuttered.  “It would require a commission be sent and…”

“You’re absolutely right!” The King interrupted.  “In fact, as King I command that a commission be sent to determine the validity of the claim that there is an army of five thousand Wolfen soldiers approaching the city of Mobrey.”

“I really don’t think…”

“It’s clearly the only way to be able to verify the truth, don’t you agree?”

Erlot couldn’t respond.  He merely stood with his mouth open, staring at the King.

“And since it is this panel that has chosen to overrule my decision,” The King added.  “Clearly it is this panel that should be sent.”

             
“Your Majesty, I really don’t think that is wise…”

“No!  It is the only way.  This panel will be sent north of the city of Mobrey to see if there really is an army of five thousand half man, half beast soldiers marching towards the city bent on its capture and the death of all its citizens.”

Erlot then slowly sat back in his seat.

“Oh don’t worry, Your Honor.  I will see to the safety and security of this commission.  In fact, as the safety of this commission is among my highest priorities, and as supreme commander of all the armies of Walechia, I will personally escort this commission along with all two thousand troops currently garrisoned here in The White City.”

“Your Majesty, I’m not sure…”

“Oh no, Your Honor.  I will hear no dissent in this matter.  I want you to see for yourselves whether or not Captain Krall and his soldiers have lied to this court.  And in seeing this, I want you to be able to determine for yourselves whether or not there is a real and present danger within our borders.  You will see with your own eyes the truth or otherwise of this danger and after you do, I will very much be looking forward to hearing your opinion as to how we should deal with this supposed threat…if it, indeed exists.”

             
The King then stepped down from his throne and stepped up to the stone wall in front of the panel.

“Prepare yourselves.” He said, his eyes still full of fire.  “We leave at dawn.”

             
After that, the King gathered several officers, including Kenner, Terri and Krall around him.

“Have the garrison prepare to leave at first light.” He ordered General Pol.  “I want all available horses, mules, carts and other vehicles appropriated for this expedition.”

“Yes, Your majesty.” Pol answered and then dashed away.

“You.” He said to Captain Krall.  “I’ll have your armor brought to you in the morning.  As soon as we sight this army, you’ll take command of an infantry company that I’ll have especially prepared for you.  And you two,” he said to Kenner and Terri.  “Don’t spend too much time in the tavern tonight.  I want you both sober and sharp for the journey in the morning.  Do you both understand?”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” They both almost shouted.

Chapter Forty Two

              Watching from his window in his room at the inn, Kenner saw; what looked like the entire city mobilizing for war.  Soldiers and officers darted about the streets shouting orders, marching in formation, running from place to place and carts and animals raced all about the busy streets.

As he watched this, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in!” He announced and General Pol entered his room.  Kenner started to stand, but the General motioned him to stay seated.

              “I’m sorry to disturb you.” He said to Kenner.

“Not at all, sir.  I was just watching everything going on outside.”

The General went to the window and looked with Kenner for a second.  It was then that Kenner noticed a somber expression on his weathered face.

              “As an officer,” He told Kenner, “you could have gotten a similar room to this at the barracks for free.” His voice sounded as if it were trying to sound cheerful, but there was some sadness inside of it.

“I’ve already paid for this room,” Kenner answered.  “I might as well get the most out of it.”

“If you paid with one of those coins of yours, you’re probably paid up for the rest of the year.”

Pol sounded as if he tried to laugh, but it didn’t quite come out.

              “What is it?” Kenner asked Pol.

Pol looked down at him with tired and serious eyes.

“I just found out that your father’s name was Banner.” He said.

Feeling a little uncomfortable himself at this point, Kenner nodded.

“Yes, it was.” He answered.

              The General found a chair on the opposite end of the room from Kenner’s bed and window, sat down and lit his pipe from the candle on the table.  He sat quietly smoking for several minutes until Kenner finally broke the silence.

“Is something wrong?” Kenner asked him.

The General took a long draw from the pipe and then aimed a plume of smoke towards the ceiling.

“What did your father look like?” He asked Kenner.

Kenner thought for a moment, trying to form a picture of his father from his memory.

“He was about my height, I suppose, “Kenner began describing.  “I guess he looked a little like me, except he didn’t wear a beard like I do.”

“Same brown hair?” Pol asked.

“Yes, only shorter.  Much shorter.  He hated men with long hair.  He said they looked like girls.”

Pol laughed a little at this.  It sounded familiar.

“Square jaw?” Pol asked.

“Yeah, like it was carved out of stone.” Kenner answered, laughing a little.

“Brown eyes?” Pol asked further.

Kenner thought for a moment.

“No.” He said firmly.  “They were green.”

Pol leaned back in his chair and took another deep draw from his pipe.

“Yes.” He finally said.  “That’s him.”

             
Kenner noticed the sad expression return to General Pol and the way he sat in the chair made him look even older.

“You knew my father?” He asked Pol.

Pol nodded.

“Yes I did.” He said sadly.  He then stood and looked down at Kenner.

“The King must never know that you’re his son.” He told Kenner.

Why not?”

The General looked as if searching for an answer.

“It would not be wise.” He said and he and Kenner stared at one another for a moment.

“Get as much rest as possible.” He said to Kenner and then left the room.

              Now confused and irritated, Kenner couldn’t sleep.  He continued to watch the activity outside when there was another knock on his door.

“Yes?” He called out.

Terri then walked in with a jug of ale, two cups and a cigar in her mouth.

“I thought you might still be up.” She said smiling.

She poured a cup and handed it to Kenner.

“Is ale your answer to everything?” He asked her.

“No.” She grunted and then looked up at him with a grin.  “Only important things.”

              Kenner and Terri talked and laughed for a few moments about the trial, the King and the looks of horror on the faces of the panel after the King ordered them to see for themselves the Wolfen army.  But then Kenner got serious.

“Everybody gets weird when they talk about my father.” He said after a swallow of ale.

“How so?” Terri asked.

“They get secretive and sad; like it’s some kind of national security thing.  Their eyes get as big as saucers and they act like they’ve been stabbed.”

“Who was your father?” Terri asked him.

“His name was Banner.”

Terri suddenly looked up at him with an expression of great surprise.

“Oh not you too!” Kenner exclaimed.

             
“I think I’m going to need another cigar.” Terri said standing.

“What the hell is going on?” Kenner yelled. 

Terri turned around with a look of both awe and confusion.  She then looked down the hall to see that it was empty and closed the door.

“Do you not know who your father was before you were born?” She asked.

“I know he was a soldier and that he was banished.” Kenner answered, even more frustrated.

“Did your father talk much about his life before being banished?”

“Dad wasn’t much of a conversationalist; except when it came to endless platitudes and how much of an ass the King was.”

“Well, I imagine he would have held a grudge against the King.”

             
Kenner then sat on the edge of the bed leaning towards Terri.

“Alright,” He said.  “You’re not going to walk out of here like Pol did.”

“As much ale as I’ve had, I may not walk out of here at all.”

“Stay focused, Terri.  I need to know what you know.”

“I know a lot of things.”

“Don’t mess with me right now.” Kenner almost growled at her.  She tried filling her cup with more ale, but Kenner stopped her.  She then gave him a more serious look than he’d ever seen from her before.

“Your father was one of the greatest warriors this nation; possibly even this world has ever seen.”

The statement was like a cold wind blowing in Kenner’s face.

             
“I don’t know all of the details,” She continued.  “In fact, there’s probably more legend than truth when it comes to that name.  But what I do know is that were it not for your father, this nation may be under the rule of King Causton not Philas.”

              Now it was Kenner who felt in awe; but even more confused.  My father was a general, he asked himself?  A hero?

“When I was a little girl,” Terri went on, “our bedtime stories were of Banner and his deeds.  We, the other children and I, heard stories of him killing a hundred men with his bare hands.  We heard how he rode a white horse through the center of Causton’s army killing everything in sight.  And of course, we heard of how Banner killed Causton.”

“This I want to hear.” Kenner quickly interrupted.

              “Well, the basis of the story is that King Philas charged at Causton on his own horse, fell off and was about to be killed by, depending on who’s telling the story a dozen or a hundred enemy soldiers, including Causton.  Banner rode, or flew out of nowhere, killed the enemy soldiers and pulled the King to safety.  He then dueled with Causton, some say he lost his arm or his leg; again depending on who’s telling the story and then killed Causton and took his head.”

              Kenner almost fell back against the wall.  His head felt light and the room began to spin.

“That’s the short version.” Terri added.

Kenner searched for something to say; anything.  This was incredible, he thought to himself.  His father a legendary hero.  Why hadn’t he ever said anything?

“Well, I can tell you one thing,” Kenner said as much to hear his own voice as anything else; “he didn’t lose either his arm or leg.”

“A shame.” Terri added, taking another drink.  “I rather liked the story of him using his leg to bash enemy soldier’s heads.”

“Is that really one of the stories?”

“I made the last part up.”

              Kenner stared at the ceiling trying to make sense of what he’d just heard.  Could his father really be the person Terri was talking about?

“Maybe you’re all talking about a different Banner.” He said.

“If people are reacting the way you say they are, I doubt it.”

Kenner barely heard her.  This was simply too much for him to take in at once.  For virtually his entire life, his father had been a simple villager who happened to be a good fighter.  He worked hard in the farm fields.  He disappeared for days at a time hunting.  He had been become both father and mother after Kenner’s mother passed away and the only time he ever said more than a few words was to curse the King.  This man couldn’t be the same Terri had just described.

“And with that,” Terri said abruptly.  “It’s time for me to leave.”

“Where are you going?” Kenner snapped.

“I’m going back to my room to sleep off this drunk I’ve been working on all night.  I suggest you try to get some sleep as well.”

“After what you’ve just told me, I don’t think so.”