The Glamouring of Brond Col

He stared. If truth were to be told, then Brond Col had not seen anything as beautiful as the view he saw now. The soft rocking of the ship did little to hide the rhythmic rise and fall of the young woman's bosom as she slept. She was the epitome of beauty, with porcelainlike skin and a face of innocence framed by the golden hair, so common in the Rabic Isles. The young woman, she was younger than his seventeen summers, slept on. And he carried on staring, afraid that if he turned away, she would disappear or at the very least, when he placed eyes on her again, her beauty may have degraded.

"Don't even think of it, lad." The voice cut into his reverie. He finally tore his gaze from beauty and turned them to the beast. Krodar was a brute of a man. Both ugly and immense. He stood on the other side of her bed, his back to the hull like Brond's, guarding and facing the door to the cabin.

"She's the Bride of Rhaygan. And the Bride is meant to be a virgin on her wedding night. If she isn't," the old mercenary shrugged, "if she isn't, then we are all up to our necks in shit." He took his eyes of the door for a second to stare at his younger companion.

"The last swords for hire that interfered with Rhaygan's girl are still wallowing at the bottom of the king's dungeon. Every now and again, he wheels them out for a bit of torture. That was before ye were born, lad. And they are still alive, if ye call it that. They brought ruin and bad luck down on the islands for a few years"

Brond blanched slightly. Krodar's voice had dampened his ardour somewhat and he was relieved to be thinking of something else.

"Does she know what's going to happen to her?" The young mercenary asked. He had been the last to add his name to the list next to the job offer at the docks in Amat. That had been a month ago, and since then, the small company had travelled by sea, through the Gold Archipelago and then to the Rabic Isles. They were several hundred leagues past the Archipelago and consisted of two inhabited islands and a smaller, third island.

"Of course, she does. She's known it since she was born."

"Everything?" Brond's voice crept an octave higher.

"Aye, lad. Everything." Krodar looked at the younger man. They were as chalk and cheese. Brond was youthful and toned, his young face could be described by some as handsome. Krodar was taller than Brond's height of six foot, broader over the shoulders but most of his muscle laid beneath a layer of excess. There wasn't many that would call Krodar handsome, maybe only his mother. His nose had been broken not once or twice, but numerous times. What teeth he had left were crooked and the scars on his face seemed to etch out paths through his stubble.

"Is she really going to be his bride?" The youth spoke up and instantly regretted his question.

"Ye can't really be that dumb, lad. Rhaygan is a fucking dragon. There is only one thing that he wants with sweet, tender meat like that; and that ain't the same thing that ye want."

"But look at her, she isn't scared at all."

"Her people see it as an honour. Well, that's the story anyway."

"What do you mean by that?"

Krodar was about to give his response when a knock at the door indicated that the shift was changing. As their replacement took their positions, Krodar turned to Brond, clasping him on the shoulder.

"Let's get an ale up on the deck, my lad. Young and enthusiastic you may be, but the world ain't all black and white."

The sea was calm, just a gentle lapping of small waves against the copper plated hull. The moon light reflected from the crests of the ripples. The crew of the small ship busied themselves with their work, adjusting sails where needed. Off to each side of the bow, Brond could make out the silhouettes of the guardships that accompanied them. Four pike men stood on guard at the wheel to the ship, their uniform of quilted gambesons in the royal burgundy of the King of Rabic gave them some protection against the dropping temperature. They were among a number of regular soldiers on board, no doubt to keep the mercenaries in check.