A Modern Mind in Medieval Times

The large carriage gleamed silver and gold under the morning sun. Its steel plating, even if thin, would stop most arrows. It was a massive cuirass on wheels, hiding Chadom’s weakness within. Its intricately engraved brass corners shone like fire, inlaid with colored gems. We could have sold them for a fortune, but first impressions were worth more.

A majestic gold and silver coat of arms, inlaid into the blackened door, caught everyone’s eyes. Zevan the jeweler’s masterpiece, made from a handful of gold and silver coins. The regal coach sat on leaf springs, its wide wheels ready for the rough roads ahead. Our finest three horses stood harnessed, light rippling across their shiny coats.

“A fine work,” I said in appreciation.

The craftsmen smiled broadly, especially the almost toothless Zevan.

The plush green interior smelled faintly of pine. I lifted the bench and opened the secret compartment. Our last resort was safely tucked inside. The components kept separate into harmless parts. Hopefully we wouldn’t need it at all. The top of the carriage had two hatches, to let the occupants deliver the surprise even while moving.

Outside, my eight bodyguards stood at attention in their new, crisp dark-brown uniforms; a practical color that would blend with the land, not a garish hue of pre-20th century militaries.

Still, as “supreme” bodyguards they had to look regal. For that, their steel cuirasses had been polished to a mirror finish. I could see my warped face on them. Fringes of red, green and white, the primary colors of our coat of arms, hung from their steel pauldrons.

Their new poleaxes gleamed in the sunlight, unlike the repeating crossbows slung on their backs, blackened to keep them inconspicuous. Scented cloth masks veiled their faces against the Bog’s stink and unfriendly eyes.

While I had been busy fabricating and teaching the future of Chadom, Lothar had been busy carefully selecting and training the men to be a ruler’s bodyguards. These were no longer the carefree youngsters who used to accompany me to the surveys, but men who understood the immense weight of the responsibility on their shoulders. Still, I felt the need to reiterate.

I looked each of them in the eye before speaking.

“If you leak any information about Chadom, it will be a collective suicide. If the Nanoans learn that there are only three thousand of us, they will destroy our nation under the weight of a few thousand conscripts, or torture me to get the secrets of our victory.”

Every soldier nodded sharply.

At the gates, Elder Erickson bowed deeply. “May the Republic prosper under your leadership, Supreme Leader. We pray for your success and safe return.”

The other Elders, standing behind him, bowed as well.

Backing me had helped Erickson rise through the ranks. Our victory had finally crushed any momentum Hyde’s faction had once possessed.

“Thank you, Elders.” I bowed in return, held Aprilia’s gaze for a heartbeat longer than I should have, then turned to the soldiers, “Let’s get going.”

Four soldiers rode ahead on horses, while the other four sat on the carriage, two in front and two in back. Lothar joined me inside.

The castle’s gates groaned open. The horses snorted. The wheels creaked and our procession moved out. People working on the almost-finished Insulae stopped to stare as the polished carriage rolled through the city in the making. I waved to them as we left Cradle and rode toward our uncertain future.

We stopped at Bog Watch, where the twenty-six Nobaran prisoners waited, ready to leave for their homes. One poor fellow had died of infection, while the rest had recovered to full health. Ruddy cheeks and straight backs, they looked in better health than when they’d been forced to attack us. It spoke a lot about the life of ordinary people in Nobart.

I grimaced, but reminded myself that I could not fix the world’s problems. I could hardly guarantee the safety of a few thousand.

We loaded the men in three wagons and rolled past the skeletal frames of the two fortresses rising around the trebuchets, like hands begging the heavens for stone.

“I leave Chadom in your capable hands, General.” I saluted Lothar at the border.

He returned it sharply. “Be safe, Commander.”

“I’ll try,” I replied, climbing into the carriage.

Then the wretched Bog swallowed us.

The journey blurred into jostling, despite the leaf springs, damp air and constant reek of decay that even scented masks couldn’t hide. On our way, I spied mounds of dirt that were the graves of the Cha that had died during the exodus. Reminders of a past that must never repeat.

My poor craftsmen had worked themselves ragged to build the carriage as soon as possible, so we could reach the other side of the Bog earlier than the relayed three weeks, and they had delivered.

We trundled onto the other side four days ahead of schedule.

The Frogmen were already waiting for us, cloaked in moss and mud, looking more like tiny ents than men.

“No welcoming party except you?” I asked.

“No, Sire. Though there are men watching the far edge of the forest.” Jaklen, the leader of the Frogmen answered in his gruff voice.

“They noticed you?”

He shook his head, as a smile crept on his face. “These ghillie suits are wonderful. We’re like shades in the forest.”

We set up a camp deeper in the forest, far enough to escape the stink of Bog, but close enough that we could quickly retreat if needed. The prisoners of war bowed repeatedly, thanking me for releasing them, and left for their villages on our wagons.

The drivers had instructions to go to the closest villages, collect the topsoil from their barns and return to the camp with it, for a hefty pay. I hoped for a fruitful meeting with the Queen, but only idiots put all their eggs in one basket.

No attack came from any co-conspirators of Zock or anyone else meaning us harm. Just the silence of the forest.

The next day, three days before the Queen’s people were supposed to meet us, some men crept into the forest.

“No insignia, but they move like soldiers, Sire. I’d wager my suit on it,” Jaklen informed me.

“Stay hidden. Don’t attack unless I give the signal.”

He nodded and vanished back into the undergrowth.

We acted as if we weren’t aware of the peeping toms. The soldiers practiced with their poleaxes, sang and carved.

Jaklen came back an hour later. “They went back.”

I just smiled in response. The Queen’s men were not as sloppy as I thought they would be, but not as sharp as us either. It would be an interesting dance.

The next morning, an ornate red and gold carriage approached our camp, drawn by a pair of large snow-white horses. Eight riders accompanied it, wearing yellow and blue uniforms so bright they might as well be archery targets. The two in the front held banners of Nanon. An eagle perched on a hill, on a field of white with blue borders.

My men hurried to raise our own. A glowing white spear rising from a green valley, a river of blood flowing beneath.

The carriage stopped and its door opened.

A foot covered in a flowing blue gown stepped out, followed by the rest of her: tall, slim, brown skin and a long braid of glossy dark hair swinging behind her.

What is a Sindhi doing here? My mind reeled from confusion, as I stood up to receive our visitor.

Her long eyelashes bordered flirty and mischievous but sharp eyes, weighing me already. I smiled as she approached.

She bowed gracefully, her lavender perfume pricking my nose.

“Forgive me, my lord. I don’t know your title or even the name of your realm.”

“Quite understandable, my lady.” I said. “Our realms became acquainted with each other only recently, and not under the best circumstances. Let us hope there will never be a repeat of such tragedy. I am Jack Shah, Supreme Leader of the Republic of Chadom. Just call me Supreme Leader, or Excellency.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly schooled her expression and bowed again.

“It’s my honor to meet the leader of the realm himself. Your Excellency, I am Reshma, aide to Her Majesty Laira the First, Queen of Nanon. I will be your escort to the capital.

We will journey to the port town of Nordhaven,” she continued, “where a ship awaits to take us to the capital, Aldersthron. The journey shouldn’t take more than a few days.”

As my soldiers struck down the camp, one of the wagons that had been late, arrived full of barn soil.

Great timing. I suppressed a groan.

We pinched our noses as the carriages moved to let the stinky wagon pass.

Reshma looked at me for an explanation.

“Barn soil,” I said dryly. “Excellent fertilizer.”

We boarded our carriages and moved out, our party following theirs. Soon, ten more riders in Nanon’s colors joined the procession, their bright uniforms cutting through the green hills like banners of arrogance.

No running away from them now.

A few hours later, while the soldiers watered the horses at a creek, Reshma drifted close.

“Would you care to share my carriage, Your Excellency?” she whispered, words smooth as silk.

“A man and a woman, neither wed nor related to each other, alone in a carriage?” I cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that scandalous in Nanon?”

Her smile played at the edge of mischief. “It is, but I trust you are a gentlemen who wouldn’t take liberties. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

I felt the temptation, but suspicion made it easy to suppress.

“Thank you for the offer, but I think I will ride with my men.”

Her laughter was soft and unoffended. It was obvious what she wanted. When subtlety failed, she became overt with her questions.

She kept probing me in different ways for information about Chadom, our people, history and especially our weapons at every opportunity. I gave her the standard answer we had discussed beforehand:

We are a small secretive mountain nation of very industrious and ingenious people, willing to export high quality steel, and maybe more, at a fair price, but not willing to give out any more information.

I couldn’t afford to be standoffish to someone so close to the Queen, but neither would I be played.

We rested in a village that night, whose residents quickly cleared three huts for our use. We added our dried rations to the thin stew they had offered, turning it hearty and filling. As we sat around the fire, the interplay of light and shadow made Reshma look even more alluring. I had to force my eyes away to not gawk.

She took her bowl and sat next to me, her anklets tinkling. Her perfume lingered, distracting.

“Your men haven’t spoken a word ever since we met,” she asked, voice low.

“They have taken a vow of silence.”

She blinked, intrigued. “Truly?”

I just smiled in return.

To turn the tables, I asked, “Could you tell me a bit about the Queen?”

“Oh?” A smile came upon her face, followed by a flat expression. “Her Majesty is devoted to the safety and prosperity of Nanon. A true successor to her father.”

A cookie cutter response; sterile and rehearsed. I smirked on the inside. Won’t let me know anything about her before the meeting, eh? Two can play that game.

Usually, the woman had a cheeky smile that said she was up to no good. If we weren’t entangled in the web of power and politics, I suspected we might have been good friends.