A duel of royals

Silence in the hall. The watchmen by the entrances lowered their guards as they were sucked into my oration. Chieftain Sigvald broke the silence.

“Y-you are the same son of Albar, Frasmul?”

“Yes, indeed, chieftain. Was it bold of me to presume that my betrothal to your daughter remains true?”

He smiled in relief. “Certainly not. Even if I had annulled it, Astvid would have objected and eloped with you anyway.”

“I-I see…” I was thrown for a loop. Glad we got this out of the way AFTER my speech, else I would’ve definitely stuttered and failed my oration. I never expected Frasmul to have charmed a lady so much that she would disobey her father and run away with him.

Now I feel guilty to disappoint this lady, because I am not Frasmul. Inside, I am still the human Clemens. The idea of marrying a goblina, especially one who will confuse me for another man, sounds deplorable. That might sound harsh, but I was born attracted to human women, and I will die the same. I’m going into this marriage for nothing but political gain.

“What is this?” Thodbargild grunted. “Why do you not then submit to us instead? Do so, and we will indeed have a united Gobland. That is what you want, no?

I looked at the ground in contemplation before replying. “If you allow me to write a law that will engrave the rights of citizens of Gobland in stone, I shall join you.”

“Don’t be foolish. There is no glory in the writing of laws. What part of the Saga of Olfrik mentions him do anything of the like? All that remains for you is to pledge submission, and that is sufficient.”

I chuckled and turned towards the two whispering diarchs. “You heard him, chieftains. Will you join me, or submit to him?”

“High chief of the Ausmulii, Albaric,” my chieftain Sigvald spoke up, seemingly in agreement with my uncle next to him, “with the power vested in us by our subtribes, the Laiesyces will acknowledge you as our kin, our ally against the human and lynx forces. Lord Thodbargild of the Turecetae, we must reject your proposal. If you seek to coerce us, we request you leave our town at once.”

“…”

“I see,” he stated bluntly. A self-satisfied grin resting on his face. I saw his eyes twitch and—

CLANG!

“What do you think you’re doing?!” I roared as I parried his sudden attack with my own falcata. He had lunged towards Sigvald in a mere eye’s wink, and as the only one who could see his movement, I jumped in to protect my future father-in-law.

The two chieftains jumped up from their seats, their swords unsheathed. “A single Goblin King against two Gnobbles and one of his own? How foolish,” one of them said.

BOOM!

The entrance of the hall was slammed open, and four Gnobbles barged into the fray. They wore brimless helmets that looked like short-stubbed cones.

“Magistrates,” Thodbargild addressed them, “capture the two fools as we deal with their half-wit leader.”

“You have four entire Gnobbles under your command?!” I blurted out in shock. “Uncle! Wergnarinth!” I called for reinforcements, but I heard no reply. From the entrance where the four Gnobbles stood, I saw a couple of knocked-out guards.

“Watchmen! At the ready!” Sigvald shouted the remaining guards at attention. They moved to intercept the attacking Gnobbles, but suddenly—

“Halt!” Thodbargild yelled, and the Crawgoblin guards froze where they stood. Not a whimper. Their faces betrayed a look of astonishment, meaning they were no traitors. Had he just managed to verbally coerce a goblin into obedience? Was this his Edekrag?

I had no time to think as he lashed out a barrage of heavy strikes. His blade must have weighed more than my own, and yet he handled it with such agility and nimbleness. He aimed for my face, I staggered back, my sword lowered, I exploded upwards with full power, cutting his face and drawing first blood.

“Ugh,” he groaned as I regained my footing and advanced on him with a light left cut—a jab to gauge distance, and I immediately followed through with a right cut to the shoulder, this time with weight behind it. He parried, and kicked me away, creating distance. We slowly closed in on each other, trying to find an opening. A few jabs were exchanged, before I lunged at his knee; he retracted his leg, maintained position, leaned forward, and cut me across my face as I fell back, saving me not a second of respite, he surged forward and me slashed up, and I fell to the ground. I leaped up, and tried to flee with my Kragnin, but he easily caught up using the same power, and opened another barrage. Our steel clashed, sparks flew, and our growls made the air around us vibrate like a cat’s purrs on an ultra catnip-induced overdrive.

Meanwhile, Sigvald and uncle Arnric struggled in their 2v4 predicament. The two were more advanced in age than their opponents, with many trials of combat under their belts. However, their opponents, younger and greater in number, were hardly a walk in the park to defeat. With their backs against each other, the chieftains kept their adversaries at bay, covering each other’s flanks, following through on one another, and making sure that only 2-3 enemies could engage them at a time. You can imagine that four men circling two is not going to allow for all four to attack simultaneously, and the two chieftains knew how to play into that.

Though often engaged in a fierce tug-of-war, the co-rulers had governed their joint tribes for decades. They were no friends, they might not even call each other comrades, but they were rivals who trusted one another with their lives. Neither of them would do something shameful to the other. Neither of them would even dare to speak ill of the other in their absence. Their bond was pure, and sincere.

But alas, their experience and coordination could do naught in the face of their spry antagonists who continued on tirelessly, taking turns so that they could fight with continued vigor. They began to falter and stagger, tumble and stumble, and eventually, they were overtaken by their foes.

“Your Greatness, one of us is down, but we have bound the chieftains!” one of the Gnobbles called out to Thodbargild. He pushed me off, and backed away towards the entrance of the hall—also its exit. Once they were out of sight, the Crawgoblin watchmen fell down as their knees buckled.

“What are you waiting for? Sound the alarm, you lot!” I barked an order despite my huffing and puffing. As if their bodies were possessed, the watchmen perked up, and stumbled out of the building. I did much the same, and held onto the doorframe for support, catching my breath and steeling my nerves. My ear twitched to the sound of hurried footsteps behind. I cocked my head to thereto, and there stood a lady.

“You! Where is my father? What was all that clamor?” She demanded while eyeing me up from tip to toe. “Frasmul?! No… b-but your hair and your pupils—!”

“Lady,” I interrupted her, my mind preoccupied with other matters, “where are the Highgoblins? Call them up, and tell them their chieftains have been imprisoned by Thodbargild.”

Her confused mien sharpened into a fierce glare. “Before you dart off, you must state your name.”

“Albaric, son of Albar, Habzakii. High chief of the Ausmulii yada yada—look, fetch those Highgoblins now!”

She harumphed—“That’s all I needed to know”—and she scurried off.

***

Bolting through the streets of Coidunum, horns blasting throughout the town, I searched for my two right-hand men and the retinue I put into their care. I arrive at their lodgings. Gone. Not a kernel of sand left.

“Chieftain Albaric!” a guard strode up on his Zorian and called out to me. “We require assistance at the gate. An army of the criminals threatens to break through!”

“Hand me your horse,” I demanded as I took and the reins and darted off.

The town was up in smoke. At least a portion of it, that is. It was enough to throw the slumbering town in disarray, as a new beacon of light broke an early dawn in the horizon. This beacon being the rapidly spreading fire. The guards turned into firefighters, as buckets of water turned into barrels of water that required fulltime hauling, from the river up the hill, and into town. Unlike at Arobrixa, the town here had access to the river even without the front gate, making the fire contained. Somewhat contained, I should say.

At the gate, I climbed up the palisade, and observed the surroundings. With my keen eyes, their potential reaching a zenith under the tutelage of the Narzakii, were quick to surmise what was going on—the banging at the gate was a diversion. Thodbargild and his subjects made off with the tied up chieftains in a prison carriage.

Staggering, I descended the palisade, and fell on my rear. My wounds had weakened me.

I grunted in discomfort. “I have… to act!”