Thursday, September 17, 2009

Brothers: Ten

Loem, age 11
Southern Silverpine, directly after the end of the Second War

"It's an interesting look for you." Uldor said from his wagon, grinning. Loem grimaced, unsure if he liked this newest change. Hekter had been as good as his word and pulled him aside this morning to dye his hair. What was once a nice chestnut brown was now black, perfect for sneaking around farms in the middle of the night, but not Loem's favorite color.

"Thank you, m'lord," he replied drily. Ulodr chuckled.
"I remember when Hekter first dyed his hair. He hated it, but his master demanded it, of course, so there was nothing for it. He's blonde, you know, just like me," he chuckled. Loem was surprised by that, but then, there was a great deal about Hekter he didn't know. I wonder how they're related, m'lord Uldor and Hekter. They seem to be close, but I doubt they're family. There's something about Hekter that just says "commoner" instead of noble, even one like Uldor, who's rather untraditional.

As if conjured just from them speaking of him, Hekter rode up. "Uldor, a word with you later, if you would." He turned to Loem. "Good day, young apprentice. Your hair looks good. Be lucky you have dark eyebrows. I have to dye mine, and there's no better trial of patience, let me tell you."

He looks so normal now, but last night... gods. He was scary. He's more than a spy or scout... he's an assassin. He has to be. Loem gulped at the thought. I didn't even hear him come up. I wonder what he's doing with the soldiers. Was he sent do deal with orcish leaders directly? I would believe it, just seeing the way he moved last night. Loem looked away, determined to not let it bother him. Hekter was still Hekter, still a joker and a good-natured fellow. Plus, what am I thinking? I know so little of any of this, of warfare, of fighting. I mean, I'm only eleven! I should be grateful he takes the time to teach me anything, instead of sending me home, an orphan.

The group of soldiers slowed as they neared the edge of the forest. Ahead, a great deal of it had been cleared and Loem could hear men shouting. Hekter frowned and rode forward, interest on his face. Lord Uldor also looked interested in whatever was going on ahead, but couldn't do much more than crane his neck. Finally, he turned to Loem.

"Ride ahead and find out what's going on. We should be nearing the Gilnean border and I'm ready to return home." Loem nodded and urged Praetor forward, passing the confused soldiers. The front of the line had stopped due to several masons having to move large stones over the road. Loem looked up in awe to see a huge wall with an even bigger gate under construction. Hekter spotted him and rode over.

"The king has decided that Gilneas requires a bit more protection. The wall will be used to keep others out, and Gilneans inside, safe. The masons have been working on it since the war looked to be ending. Come on. There's much to discuss with Uldor about your future."

They rode back down the road towards the wagon where the knight was resting. Hekter went ahead and told Uldor all about the new wall that marked the border of Gilneas. Uldor didn't look terribly surprised. "Sounds like the King has made his orders more than orders. It seems Gilneas will be pulling away from the Alliance altogether at this point." He turned, then, to Loem.

"Loem, what will you do? I would very much love to take you with me, to make you a part of my household in Gilneas. You've served me with distinction and I haven't any children. You'd never want for anything."

Loem, afraid that Uldor was going to say something like this, gulped. "Sir Uldor... I..." He hung his head, trying to find the right words. "M'lord, I have family. A brother. I'm all he's got left at this point and I have to get back to him. Please, understand."

Uldor nodded slowly. "Of course I understand, Loem. Just know that the invitation stands. My men and I will be staying here, outside the gate for a few days to get more supplies, unload a few unwanted things, repair and rest... if you change your mind, or find your brother and want to bring him with you, I'll be here."

"You mean... I could bring him along? I could get him and you'd take us both?" Loem was surprised.

"Of course, Loem. You're like a son to me and any family of yours is family of mine. Go. Find your brother. I hope to see you again soon."

----------*----------

Loem was in shock. How he went from squire in the army to being accused of thievery and murder he didn't know. One moment he was on the road, on his way home again, the next he was in chains with officers claiming he had stolen Praetor, asking him where his father was, what his REAL name was, as it couldn't possibly be Loem Kingswarden. He was confused, lost, and once again alone.

He looked up, through the bars of his cell, to the soldiers that were seated around the table, playing cards. I have to get home, to Leo. I'm all he's got... he's all I've got. Praetor has to be in their stables, even idiot soldiers can tell a well-bred horse from a nag, so they're probably keeping him to give to their commander. What few things I had are in a pack by the door. He craned his neck a bit and could see the small bag from where he was sitting. It was still there, dropped unceremoniously as they had dragged him in and thrown him in the small cell.

Already he was forming a plan. There was a few small pieces of metal that he might be able to bend enough to form into a lock-pick, though he had very little experience picking locks. Still, the large keyhole for the cell looked easy enough. Hekter had talked to him about the basics. Once that was done, he'd just have to wait for them all to go to sleep and then he'd-

"What is the meaning of this?!?" The soldiers jumped to their feet and even Loem jumped about a foot in the air as the door crashed open. It was their commander, and, for a brief moment, he thought that the man was going to set him free.

"Why hasn't this prisoner already been taken back to Gilneas? He's obviously some farmhand looking for adventure! We need to find his lord so that he can be sentenced and punished." Loem gulped, his hopes of freedom dashed. These men have already made up their minds... they refuse to believe that I'm Loem Kingswarden! It's insane! I'm telling the truth!

He wanted to cry, to scream, to fight back, something! But he could do nothing, and now, just when he thought everything was going to be alright, all his hopes were taken from him. The commander came over to the cell door and leaned down.

"What's your name, boy? You're getting only one more chance to tell us the truth." Loem wanted to spit in the man's face. "Truth? I've been telling the truth. My name is Loem Kingswarden, squire to Laric Kingswarden until his death, and rightful lord of the Kingswarden estate in northern Lordaeron. I was going home when-"

"I've heard enough." The commander stood up and turned his back on the young squire. "You're an idiot, boy, whoever you really are. If you were a squire of Lordaeron, where's your tabard? Where's your Lordaeron crest?" he sneered. "And why, if you're really from Lordaeron, are you wearing the Gilnean colors?! Bah." With that, he turned to one of his men. "Get him loaded in a cart and get him into Gilneas. The king is wanting all Gilneans behind that wall, and I'll not be one who lets this one get away. The stallion will accompany him, as evidence of his crimes."

With that, the man left, slamming the door behind him again and leaving the stunned and bewildered soldiers in his wake. Loem, finally realizing that the truth wasn't listened to, slumped against the wall, defeated, tears sliding silently down his face.

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