Years after King Maras gained his throne on his twentieth name day marked the beginning of the end of Panthos. He was the first King of the Vint that was in obvious pursuit of peace with the Kingdom of Panthos. Many people thought him weak and timid for his attempts at peace. The Vint is known for its ruthlessness, as all are no doubt aware, and no northern King had ever looked well on those that refuse to bend the knee. Regardless, the King knew that a lasting peace with Panthos would grant him exclusive control over the continent, as well as at least some dominion over the Isles-all except Ovum, of course. It took him three whole winters to finally receive a reply from Queen Somara. Her skepticism of his motives was well known and almost all of the people of Panthos were against any agreements with the north. Panthos trusted their Queen, though, and would stand behind her no matter where she led them. The first meeting between Somara and Maras was to be near the end of the Trist Summer, named for the four years of heat that sweltered Panthos, much like it did Tristos each and every year. The heat was almost unbearable, and thousands of people died under the face of the beaming sun. The leagues between the wall of Mardom and Lilanth were filled with treacherous deserts and canyons and, coupled with the Kori River, made the trek one of the most dangerous journeys a man can make. Somara decided that if the King of the North was willing to venture the thousands of leagues that it would take to meet with her, she would grant him an audience. So, she sent her best riders bearing the crest of Panthos along with her royal ring as an invitation to Lilanth, the City of the Moon.
It is said that it took them an entire moon's turn to reach Harrendom, braving the elements, savages, mercenaries, and bullying knights that are located only in the Vint. Now, no Uthari would ever claim to fear a knight of the north, but they can be a grand annoyance to a traveling man, even with the Seal of the King granting them passage through the empire. One of the riders was none other than Narris, the Queen's brother and Commander of the Uthari Sacred Guard. Narris was a strong fighter, perhaps one of the best of the Uthari, and equipped with an increasingly short temper. Like most Uthari, he was quick to kill first and think about the consequences later. It was not a wise choice to send him into the Vint on a peace mission, but the Queen trusted him as she did no other.
Once they arrived, the King greeted Narris and his entourage of fifty warriors with open arms. As the modest Uthari host rode through the gates of Harrendom, the people threw petals of the Arum flower in honor of the Moon Gods to mark their way to the keep. King Maras himself met them on the steps and embraced Narris according to Panthosi customs.
"I trust that the Moon Gods have granted you a pleasurable journey to our humble kingdom?" The King said behind a gracious smile. The man could have blended in with any crowd of peasants, if not for his wardrobe. He was a man of average height and weight, with jet black hair and a soft smile. The only thing dangerous about him was his hazel eyes. They came with them an aura of deception, a fire of passion. He wore a silver wrapped longsword at his left hip and a matching dagger on his right. He wore a gold crown inlaid with jewels from every reach of the empire upon his head, and ten different rings forged from the ten most precious metals of the world on each finger. His breastplate was a deep blue notorious of the Steel of the Isles, which was thought to be impenetrable. Lying on his shoulders were golden eagles tipped with silver and diamonds for eyes. The clasps were formed from the eagles' claws and anchored the largest cloak that Narris had ever laid eyes on. It was the length of three men, and the stitching on it was said to have taken ten years to finish.
"The Gods favor those in their service, sire. I bring a letter from Queen Somara meant for your eyes alone," Narris replied, holding up the sealed parchment.
"I am pleased that she thinks so well of me as to send her finest warrior to make me this offer of peace." The King's face remained passive, but his eyes were alive with fire, and Narris knew that he was not to be trusted. "You must be fatigued from your journey, Lord of the Uthari. Please, I have made my solar available for you."
Narris nodded. "You are very gracious, sire. What of my men?"
"I have prepared the barracks rooms of the First Guard for your men. There should be ample room to fit them all comfortably."
Again, Narris nodded, and then took his leave. One of the King's servants led Narris and his captains to the King's solar. It was located on the northernmost section of the huge castle, and was said to be the highest room in the entire world. It looked over a sheer rock face that plummeted down to the valley floor some two thousand feet below. He moved to the terrace and caught himself wishing that he had taken the fur coat that the King's servant had offered him. The north was a different animal, he was learning quickly. He found himself missing the parched desert and beaming sun of Panthos.
A captain of his guard named Barost joined him with a shiver. "Too cold in these parts I say. How long are we bid to stay on this wretched mountain?"
"The King has proposed a tournament in honor of Queen Somara." Narris never looked at his bundled up counterpart. "Less than a half moon, no more if the Gods are gracious."
Barost chuckled heartily. "These northerners compete in tourneys with training swords and blunted axes and call themselves knights. What are we to do for two whole weeks, pray to the Moon to send us real weapons and foes fit to use them?"
"They seek sport in fighting, but not death, I think." Narris frowned and stepped back into the slightly warmer room where a servant stood by a large hole in the wall filled with chopped wood.
"Would you like me to put a fire on, my lord?" the pea-faced servant boy asked.
"Will it roast my friend here and his mammoth skin?" he said with a glance at the fluffy Barost.
"I... I think not, my lord."
"Pity." He waved a hand at the boy. "Leave it, I rather like the cold. It reminds me that I am so very far from home."
The boy bowed and left quietly.
"I thought a fire might have been nice," Barost said almost longingly.
Narris turned to the large man. "Barost the Chilly, is it? Go check on the men and keep them in line. I want no man of the north dying unless they fall by my own hands. And tell them to keep their paws to themselves. We do not mate with these people."
Barost nodded. "It will be known."
After he exited, Narris moved and shut the windows. It took him only a moment to get the fire going. He undid his leather vambraces and then shrugged out of his leather doublet. He was not a large man by any means. Save for Barost, most Uthari were small and wiry, built with speed and agility and trained with knives and sabres. His body was covered with scars and burns brought on by a life dipped in combat. It did not make sense to him, this pampered life, but his Queen wanted this peace, and he was nothing if not loyal to the throne. He shrugged on a simple silk shirt and brown leather trousers, but before heading towards the door he concealed two small knives in the front of his pants, one on each thigh. It would not be fitting to appear in public naked to the world.
With that he left the extravagant room and met two of his men in the hallway, staring directly across at two of the King's guards. The four men could not have been more different from each other. His men were in simple leather armor with sheathed knives in the breast plate and matching sabres crossed behind their backs, whilst the King's guards were clad in steel plate armor from head to toe with shields almost as tall as they were. They both had ten foot spears in their right hands and sat with motionless eyes staring through slits in their visors.
Narris spoke to his two men in Tari. "They have been here the entire time?"
"They stand like statues," one of his men replied. "Probably fight like ones too," the other chimed in with a laugh.
"No one enters my chambers," Narris said before turning and making his way down the large hallway. He had been taken through the side of the castle upon entering and had missed seeing the Great Hall and the Throne Room. There was to be dinner in the Great Hall later, so he decided on paying a visit to court. He had heard about what it would be like, but it still made him curious as to what happened at court there in the civilized side of the world.
It was nothing like what he had expected. He arrived late, but caught the end of what appeared to be a lengthy process. The King sat on his throne, almost indifferent to the man on his knees before him. Narris saw Barost standing on the side of the room and moved to him.
"How is this all playing out?"
Barost spoke softly. "The King sits there and listens to the problems of his people. It is madness! Most of it is feuds between knights. One knight paid for a whore and before he could consummate the arrangement, another knight killed her." The large man shook his head.
"These matters are brought before the King himself?"
Barost only nodded as they curiously watched the show in front of them. The guards were dragging away the pleading man, though Narris was not sure why, when a man dressed in silks and satins under an exuberant silver doublet stepped forward.
"My King, I pray you judge this great injustice that has affronted my house. This man, Sir Veran Meyser, raped and murdered my youngest daughter-a girl of only fifteen. She was but a maiden and hoped to be wed soon, but was robbed of her maidenhood, and her life." The man was grey of hair and looked as though he had not slept in weeks. As he spoke, a slight tremor could be heard in his voice as he tried to hold back both his rage and tears.
The King looked at the man for a long moment. "I am terribly sorry for your troubles, Lord Eric. I knew your late wife. I miss her." He paused and sighed. "Is Sir Veran present at this court?"
An "Aye" echoed through the hall as a large stocky lad in war torn armor and stained cloak stepped forward. He could not have been older than sixteen. "I am Sir Veran, sire."
"What say you to these charges?"
The knight looked over at the grieving Lord. "It is true, my king, I saw the girl the night she was murdered, but I had no part in any rape or killings. I swear it by my honor as a knight. When I left her she was as pure and healthy as a babe."
"Lies!" Lord Eric Grine yelled through gritted teeth. "You took her innocence and then spilled her blood, just like you have done time and again. Murderer!"
Sir Veran chuckled at the old man. "No one wanted to steal your girls virtue, my lord, and I have no need to be killing small girls. There are plenty of fat lords with which to feed the worms and maggots."
"Silence, both of you!" The King bellowed as he rubbed his head and looked about the large room. He noticed Narris then, standing by the big Barost near the side of the room. "Lord Narris, please, join me. I am in dire need of assistance with this problem."
Narris glanced about the room, an unnerving look on his face. "I believe these matters will be better served by you, sire."
The King shook away his courtesy. "Nonsense, come show me what justice is like in your great kingdom. Panthosi justice, yes."
Reluctantly, Narris joined the king at his throne and looked down at the smug knight and old lord standing at the steps.
"So, in your kingdom, how would this matter be solved?" The King was giddy with curiosity.
Narris did not like where this was headed. "Panthosi laws are very different from those of the Vint, sire. I would much prefer that you yourself enact judgment on this case."
"Can it be that different, Lord Narris? Surely your laws are sound and just, otherwise your great kingdom would not have lasted so long." The King smiled at him. "Come now. Tell this court how a matter such as this is solved in Panthos."
Narris sighed. "By Panthosi law, the accused is allowed to defend his honor against any accuser. In this case, Sir Veran would be allowed to take up arms against Lord Grine for bringing this charge upon him, unless the Lord so wishes to withdraw his claim."
The King's face lit up with excitement. "Trial by combat, how interesting, we have a similar system. Though, men usually choose a champion to do the fighting for them."
"Champions and mercenaries are forbidden in Panthos. You must defend your own honor; you must defend your own life." Narris looked across the Throne Room, and then to Lord Eric. The lord's face had slumped noticeably, and Narris knew that he would not see another night's rest.
A large smile had snaked its way onto Sir Veran's face, and was met with a look of terror and dismay on the face of Lord Eric Grine. "Surely this will not be allowed, sire. I have presented you with unmistakable evidence against Sir Veran, and he has admitted to being with my daughter the night she was murdered! I do not wish to be subject to trial by combat," Lord Eric squeaked out.
Sir Veran was forty years younger than the old lord and had been nicknamed The Butcher for obvious reasons. He was already one of the most feared men in the Vint, and Lord Grine new that he was no match for this knight, no matter how young and seemingly inexperienced he proved to be.
"Then you must withdraw your claim against him, Lord Eric. I rather like this Panthosi law," he said, turning to Narris. "Perhaps we will have a sit down, you and I, and talk about some of the more interesting aspects of your kingdom."
"Sire, I beg of you to show the King's justice!" Lord Eric barely choked the words out.
"Enough of your blubbering, you fool of a Lord! Withdraw your claim against Sir Veran, or take him up in arms and show the world that he is truly without honor." The King's face was writ with impish delight. "Or are you too craven to defend the honor of your slain daughter?"
Narris knew what was about to happen, but was powerless to stop it. In Panthos, no man would ever bring such dishonor upon himself by stealing a woman's maidenhood, much less by murdering her in cold blood. It would not stand, and because of that, the law was different in Panthos, much different than it was in this forsaken land where they called themselves civilized people.
Lord Eric Grine took a solemn look on his face as he drew out his longsword. The crowd of people took a few steps back as he circled around Sir Veran. At first, it looked as though the knight would not take up arms against the old man. He only stood there, leering at him with impunity, telling him with his eyes that the charges against him were true. Then Lord Eric Grine spoke.
"Sir Veran Meyser, I judge you under watch of the gods for the rape and murder of my daughter. I demand you draw your sword and defend your honor!" His voice changed from the feeble squeaks of earlier, and he all but roared at the knight.
Sir Veran only shrugged and pulled out his longsword. "To the crows then, my lord," he said with a mocking bow.
And immediately the Lord was upon him. Blow after blow, Sir Veran managed to check and spin away from, but Lord Grine was relentless in his onslaught. It was almost the exact opposite of what Narris had expected. Perhaps justice would prevail today, Narris thought. Lord Eric kept up attack after attack, backing Sir Veran close to the crowd, and forcing him to parry away with a sidestep to avoid tripping over some gawky onlooker. Sir Veran had his back against the wall, barely escaping a blow before another would land just as he turned his sword. He was tiring, Narris could tell, but the grieving Lord seemed to gain energy with each stroke.
Lord Eric Grine sent an overhand arc that would have cut the knight from shoulder to belly, had he not gotten his sword up to meet it. The longsword bounced off of the knight's blade and then his shoulder-plate, but Lord Grine misjudged the blow and it threw him off balance, allowing Sir Veran a moment's reprieve to gather himself an opening for an attack. The strike hurt the knight's shoulder, though, and on his next swing he favored it and was a shade too slow. Lord Eric shrugged the blow away and danced a step backwards as Sir Veran let loose his own fury of swings.
Sir Veran threw a slashing attack that Lord Eric parried, but he loosed his left hand and buried his mailed fist into the lord's face, sending him stumbling back. The lord caught himself near the steps and lurched forward, but was caught by another assault from Sir Veran. He checked the first two blows, but the third was an overhand that he pulled his sword up horizontally to catch, which Sir Veran's sword cut through like a hot knife through butter. The Knight's longsword did not stop until it was near Lord Eric's waste, covered in sopping blood and cracked bone.
Lord Grine slumped to the ground with his broken sword still in his hand, and the knight's still buried deep into his torso. Sir Veran put a foot on his chest and roughly pulled the sword from his broken body. Blood pooled and crept down the steps of the Throne Room. Sir Veran took a step back and took a knee, attempting to catch his breath.
The King rose from his chair. "Sir Veran Meyser, I see that you have defended your honor as a knight, and as a man of this court. I declare all charges in this matter resolved. You are free to go, sir."
Sir Veran stood and bowed, with one last sneer at the dead lord before he stomped out of the large room. Narris felt his brow grow hot at the sight of the man. Not a bone in his body knew honor's name, and he had no business calling himself a knight.
"I trust this verdict pleases you, Lord Narris?"
It took a moment for Narris to answer. "Things are done differently in Panthos, sire. This sort of crime would never have happened. Therefore, this matter would never have needed to be resolved in such a way."
The King only shrugged at that. "I feel like justice has been done." He turned to the rest of the room. "That is all for the day. Leave us."
It took only moments for the Throne Room to empty. All except for a few of the King's advisors and Barost had exited.
"I pray you enjoy your stay here, my lord. After the tournament we will set out for the City of the Moon, and to your Queen. I am most intrigued about this visit. Do let me know if there is anything that you require while you are here," the King said with a dismissive nod and turned away from Narris, headed out of the Throne Room.
"My thanks, sire," Narris said through clenched teeth. He turned and moved towards the exit with Barost quick on his heels.
"And it will be spoken, the great Lord of Panthos set free a rapist and a murderer because of his savage and brutal laws." Narris shook his head as he walked.
"What do we care what these brigands think about our great kingdom? Panthos does not need us to defend its honor," Barost shrugged indifferently.
"I believe our Queen would feel differently. She wants this peace, Barost, she wants to unite the empires and be able to travel freely past the wall. She wants her people to stop living in war and embrace how sweet a life of peace can be. I am afraid that she wants much, much more than I am prepared to give her, but she will have it nonetheless."
"We have no choice but to smile and hold our tongues until we are safely back in Lilanth." Barost had an irritated look about his rounded face.
Narris nodded. "This tournament is in two days and is set to last a week. I want the men to keep their eyes open for anything suspicious. If they see anything, report directly to me. And Barost, keep the men out of the brothels, we need to stay out of these northerners debts."
"It will be known," Barost said with a bow.
Narris enjoyed the walk back to his room in silence and shrugged out of his clothes once he was in the privacy of the lavish solar. It might as well have been a different universe, this kingdom of the north. The fire had warmed the room nicely and he sat down with a letter written by the Queen's hand. He had yet to break the seal on it, but he already knew exactly what it said and reading it was purely ornamental. The instructions were simple. He was not to interfere or conduct any acts not befitting an envoy of peace from the Kingdom of Panthos that could harm or potentially delay any upcoming agreements of peace by these two great empires. It was all a farce, of course. Queen Somara had sent Narris for a purpose, one that was essential to determining if the King would hold his end of the bargain.
There was a knock at the door and Narris stood lazily, not even attempting to cover his bare body. A knight with the King's colors, dressed in full plate armor, entered through the large door, though he was lacking the shield and spear. Instead, he had a longsword that swung from his left hip and he carried his helm in his right hand.
"My lord of Panthos," the guardsman said, not even noticing his nudeness. "His Grace wishes you to join him in the Grand Hall tonight for a feast welcoming you and your men to our great kingdom."
Narris nodded and set down the letter on a nearby table. "I am honored. I will be ready shortly."
The guardsman bowed before exiting. "I will be outside to escort you to the hall, my lord."
He caught himself wondering how this feast would fare. If the day's happenings were of any consequence, he guessed he was in for a long night. He went to the wardrobe that his servants had offloaded from the convoy earlier that day and chose a leather doublet inlaid with the crest of the Uthari in gold and silver, and shrugged it over a black silk tunic from the same chest. He chose matching black trousers and a leather belt that was peppered with diamonds from the Sparkling Sea of the Isles. With an errant sigh, he stowed the rest of his belongings and headed for the door.