Manorborn: The Battles Between

Untitled Part 2

"Well, I would say you got their attention." Galen Manorborn, the youngest of the brothers smiled, his one good eye sparkling with mischief as he looked out at the gathered armies staring at the three young men atop the hill.

"Indeed." Rumbled the huge frame of Benjamin as he hefted his war hammer to rest it on a shoulder as casually as one might the branch of a tree. His face was calm, his eyes steady, as he looked out that the throng before them with a slight smile on his lips. "Your plan to pull the fire from their weapons seems to have worked well."

Glancing up at the flaming sphere above his head, Jaryd, firstborn of the Manor and heir to the High Seat of the Manor Lord, nodded. His face was young, holding a few of the vestiges of youth that marked him as not yet a man, though he was on the verge of manhood. That face looked weary and tired, more tired than a lad of 17 years should be, for he and his brothers had traveled much, and fought much since the fall of the Midnight King, a mere two weeks past. From one world to another they had gone to answer the call of need. They had fought battles, counseled leaders, and slain monsters all in the name of the Manor and the Maker. In all they had been blessed with success, and the names of the Sons of the Manor were becoming known across the universes as warriors of strength and wisdom, men who, despite their youth, were to be counted among the mighty.

And Jaryd was exhausted.

Though the brothers worked together, Jaryd was the firstborn and it fell to him to take the lead in battle, to be the voice others listened to in counsel. Benjamin and Galen did their best to advise and support him, but it always fell to Jaryd to be the leader. The weight of decision was always his. And after two weeks of almost constant conflict, he was weary of body and mind.

"It seemed the easiest way to end the fight and get their attention." He muttered.

"Oh, you most definitely have their attention." Galen grinned, one hand resting on the pommel of a short sword sheathed on his right hip. On his left hip rested the sword's twin in its sheath, but each would be out in a flash if needed, for he was a highly skilled bladesman.

"Then let us see if we can end this battle before it begins."

Jaryd stepped forward, his feet carrying him down the slope toward the rich green veldt below. As he did so, the flaming sphere overhead whirled about once, twice, and on the third rotation, burst apart and faded from sight. Needless to say, all those who watched were quite stunned by this display of power.

"Ahzmin." Jaryd called out and, on silent wings, a huge, powerful, Eagle-Owl flew from the nearby trees and alighted on his shoulder. From there, it watched all around with great, wise, powerful golden eyes.

"Thank you for coming, my friend."

The mighty raptor gave a soft screech and nuzzled his beak against Jaryd's cheek. Friends since just a few days after he had been born, Ahzmin was guide and counselor as well as constant companion to Jaryd Manorborn.

"Listen well, my friend, be keen of sight and hearing."

A soft coo let the Heir now his friend wuld be by his side in more ways than one.

With Ahzmin on his shoulder, Jaryd strode forward, Benjamin and Galen slightly behind and to either side of him. He did not look to the left or the right, but simply straight ahead, eyes focused on the two leaders and their counselors who, in turn, had their gaze riveted on the three young men walking toward them. The silence was so great, the Heir could hear the swish of the grass beneath their booted feet.

When they were within a few yards of Lard Malvix and Chief Vroth, the three warriors stopped and stood still, holding themselves with the easy readiness experienced warriors did. Indeed, more than one of the standing soldiers there noted the long scar that began above, and continued below the patch on the youngest one's eye; a mark one could only have received in battle.