Token of Loyalty

Chapter Eleven

The plains of Hsai spanned from the Kingdom of Dungard down to the Old Master's Road, which if followed led to Eadburga and the Eirsion Ocean. Hsai was inhabited by Queen Kamaria's people, the people of Trigion. The moment one stepped into the plains, it became alive with buzzing insects, grazing wild cows, and roaming horses. Wheat fields covered much of the land, stalks as high as a man's shoulder.

Sindri wadded through them, without anything but his fists and a pocket knife on his person. In the distance tents made from animal hide could be seen, and amongst them were timber and stone huts. He squinted his eyes through the sun, gazing at the dark shadows of people. It was Trigion that he approached.

A once proud king stumbling into another kingdom having been beaten and broken. Sindri scoffed to himself, then sighed. He deserved it, he supposed. He had let down his people, having let his hunger and greed for power overtake the needs of the Tarynians. Yet still, a fire burned into his scourged soul.

His eyes turned South-East, staring along the flatten grounds from hereon to the Old Master's Road. Eadburga was a mere reflection in his mind, a mirage one would say. He licked his chapped lips, then ground his teeth. One day, he swore to himself, he would rise again and dismantle Aelfgar's kingdom. He would free his sister Ragna, and his nephew Eahlstan from the tyrant's grip.

That was a vow.

The entrance to Trigion was marked by two standing stones. The inscriptions were aged and weathered, having been chiseled into the hard rock eons ago. Trigion, despite Aelfgar's horrid judgment of the people, had survived due to Queen Kamaria's reign. Sindri and Hrafn had helped them not long ago, perhaps two years now, and Kamaria had promised to aid them if they ever required it.

Now was the time, except Sindri's pride was wounded. He felt like a dog coming with its tail tucked between its legs, and that wasn't him. He cleared his throat and lifted his shoulders, demanding the respect he was often used to, except this time no one paid him mind.

The tribesmen continued with their work, tanning hides and washing clothes in large buckets. Children danced about in their worn shirts and tattered pants. Several ran around Sindri, passing him by with not much as a thought. For once, Sindri felt like a commoner. His confidence struck down to the level of this folk.

Sindri gazed upwards to the largest hut in the middle of the settlement. An ear-piercing chant came from it, making every person in the village halt. Sindri listened well and distinguished the clear distinctions of Ikshan tongue. It was the calls and praises of an initiation of a young assassin of Trigion, marking the day they pledged their undying loyalty to their kingdom and Queen Kamaria. They held honor and history in their bones that ran deeper than any Gharashian. This land had belonged to the original tribes of Hsai long ago.

A moment later, a crowd tore out of the tent, with lit words falling from their tongues. Their mouth tongue rolled through the settlement, bringing an uproar to the people. Cheers rang out and smiles grew on the lips of the people. Sindri shuddered in his breaths, remembering the day his own father had dedicated the throne of Taryn to him and the merriment that had followed. He had lost it all, and within him, his ancestors viciously waged war against his heart, soul, and mind. To them, he might as well have murdered his entire family.

"Sindri!"

At Sindri's name, he lifted his brows. He couldn't tell who he called him through the crowd as everyone had hurried into the main road. He winced when his foot was crushed beneath someone's boot. It didn't help his old aching bones nor the days of stench and dried blood that clung to him from the war not only two weeks ago.

Another burly shout rang out, "Part way for the Queen!"

In a split second, the crowd broke and Kamaria came, standing at her height of six-foot-and-four-inches. She was a war queen, descendents of the eldest of Gharashian's champion bloodline. She wore a bone necklace, ringlets adorned her arms, and hoops hung from her ears. Her head was shaved to the scalp, showing scars upon her skin. Under the sunlight, her mahogany skin shone with golden highlights that reflected off her high cheekbones.

Sindri bowed immediately. "Queen Kamaria of Trigion, it is I, Sindri Halvard of Taryn."

"You come bearing no title," she began, then gazed at him, searching for his father's sword, "What happened to your sword? Was it lost at the battle in Eglantine?"

He shook his head, lowering his chin to his chest. "I bestowed it to King Hrafn of Taryn. I was dethroned by my own people, Queen Kamaria. I am no longer the King of Taryn."

A gasp fled the lips of the tribesmen before they began to murder amongst themselves in Ikshan. Kamaria hushed them sharply. On Kamaria's right, another broad-shouldered woman stepped forward. It was her right-hand Hasana Oyinlola, a swift killer and leader of the Assassins of Trigion. She had a deep scar that ran from her right cheek to her right ear. Her hair was also shaved to the scalp, and her apparel was that of Kamaria's, but she bore no ringlets on her arms, only gauntlets to protect her wrists.

"Your people wouldn't have dethroned you without a reason," Hasana stated, then glanced across to Kamaria and muttered something outside of Sindri's hearing.

Kamaria huffed and shook her head. "Hrafn sent a letter by carrier pigeon a week back. He explained thoroughly your situation, and for your sake, I have commanded Hasana to not speak of it. You are safe here, Sindri Rikson."

Sindri nodded his thanks. He recognized three others amongst Kamaria. It was Lanre the Wolfe, Kayin Madaki, and Eniola Madaki. Lanre was a stray wolf shifter from Wa'lara, and Kayin and Eniola were a married couple. Each of them were loyal, regarded assassins of Kamaria's. Sindri struggled with a small smile, then kicked a rock at his feet.

"It is good to be amongst friendly faces again," Sindri announced, breathing in the fresh, crisp air of Hsai. "Since I left Eglantine, I have been hunted by Aelgar's soldiers, and Taras' mercenaries. The continent of Gharash is under attack. It worsens by the day."

Kamaria's jaw clenched, then she bit a swore out in Ikshan before she spoke once more. "Damned heathens. Is it not enough that our people have bled and suffered?" She growled, stirring a cheer from her people. "Well, I say no more! Hsai will remain free, Trigion will protect those who reside here, and Othmar will stay safe. Aelfgar's reign of tyranny in Gharash will end!"

Several hoots and howls rose from the ground before Kamaria silenced them with a raise of her palm. She waved for Sindri to follow her, and without hesitation, he hastened his pace and joined her side.

"Welcome, Sindri Halvard to the Clan of Chuma Sefu. The Iron Sword presents the pleasure of hosting you this evening and for as long as you abide," she commanded, and then rested a hand on his shoulder. "You will always be a friend of the people of Hsai, Sindri. You and Hrafn protected us from Aelfgar's onslaught two years ago. We will pillage and burn his kingdom back for the plague he spread. Hatred has no place amongst these tribesmen."

"For the free Gharashians!" Sindri shouted, earning cheers and applause from the crowd. He grinned for the first time in months, then breathed a sigh of relief. He gazed downwards to Kamaria, and into her swirling mossy depths. "I will never forget this, Queen Kamaria. Honor, values, and traditions is the oath of every Tarynian."

Hasana grunted in agreement then shouted in Ikshan, "The heathens will burn!"

A drum beat sounded in the background before Kamaria raised her hand for peace, knowing the beat could be heard for miles on end. Now was not the time to strike. They had healing to do and wounds to mend. Sindri was only the beginning, and Kamaria knew a bird of flight would take a week or more to reach Hrafn in Taryn, if he had made it back alive.

Only time would tell.