Time: The reign of King Jupiter Goodson.
Place: Tarvan Bluff, northern Natalia.
Lieutenant Helmer did his best to move silently as he moved slowly through the narrow, rocky pass. This path had not been trodden by rabbits of the Great Wood in living memory, since before the reign of King Walter Good or even his father, whose name was spoken like a curse if it was ever mentioned at all. Even before then, travel along it to and from First Warren had been rare, a result of both the distance to the capital and the dangers that had long plagued that distance.
Of course, as King Jupiter had stated before the expedition set out, that was undoubtedly part of the problem. Had his predecessors made a point of seeing that rabbits made this journey, in spite of the difficulty, the rabbits who lived in and around Tarvan Bluff might never have seceded from the kingdom established by Lander Whitson. Instead, neglected and apart, they had severed ties with First Warren. But now, King Jupiter said, the time had come to reconcile if possible.
“Can you move any slower, farmbuck?”
Gritting his teeth, Helmer tried to ignore the voice he had loathed since early childhood. It was deep now, not the squeak it had been back then. Somehow, though, it managed to sound just as annoying. What had he done, he wondered, to be assigned to the same mission as the brattiest buck in all Natalia?
“Are you deaf, or just dull, farmbuck? I asked you a question. I can’t understand why you were chosen to take point. Perhaps you think the king can wait as long for his orders to be carried out as you wait for crops to grow on your family’s little patch of dirt?”
Having taken quite enough lip on this journey already, Helmer spun around. Lieutenant Hewson, far from being startled, looked amused and pleased with himself as usual. His fur was not as dark as Helmer’s, and he had a paler patch on his muzzle. But he was tall, strong, and good-looking…and he didn’t need anyone to tell him so.
“Lieutenant Hewson, even if your noble upbringing didn’t teach you enough manners to use my name, I would think that your military training would at least give you the discipline to address me by my rank. If you don’t understand our superiors’ decision, feel free to go back and ask them-you certainly won’t be missed here. Though if you feel that the king wouldn’t appreciate delay, I doubt bothering him with impertinent questions is likely to improve his temper. And I’ll thank you to leave comments about my family and my home out of your inane backchatter in the future.”
“My, who knew you had such an extensive vocabulary, Lieutenant,” Hewson said dryly. “One has to wonder where you learned it all. You certainly didn’t pick up such an education mucking about in the dirt. A pity you never learned any manners yourself. Being named after a long dead hero doesn’t give you the right to speak like that to your betters.”
Snorting, Helmer laid a hand on his sword hilt. “Being the son of a noble doesn’t make you better than me, lordling. I can prove that with my sword any time you like. It’ll help you work off some of that fat you’re carrying from stuffing yourself with food grown by poor farming families…like mine.”
Even as Hewson’s hand moved to his own sword in apparent acceptance of the challenge, a shadow fell over both bucks. In their bickering they had quite forgotten that they weren’t alone. Most of the bucks in the advance party were Helmer’s age or younger, and none would’ve dared to come between the longtime adversaries. The same could not be said, however, of their commanding officer.
Lord Captain Stam the Stout was a mountain of a buck, dwarfing Helmer and Hewson in spite of their own impressive statures. He was also broader than either of them, with muscles bulging across his frame. Stam’s diamond-patterned trousers marked him out as one who had Drekker blood in his veins. Across his back was strapped a great war hammer, with an emerald and a ruby set on either side of the formidable head.
“I don’t recall authorizing a sparring session, bucks,” the Lord Captain rumbled. “But if ye’ve got some steam to blow off, I’ll be happy to oblige ye. I’m always ready to dunk hot young heads in cold water. What say ye?”
When neither of them replied, he nodded approvingly. “That’s more like it. Lieutenant Helmer, kindly take up point again. And Lieutenant Hewson, clamp yer lips or I’ll kick yer tail back to the Great Wood.”
Both bucks nodded, though Hewson was obviously sullen about it. Helmer resumed his position in the lead, and the small band of bucks continued up the pass. Advancing cautiously, Helmer eventually led them out into open ground. They had reached a small gorge, and could see the top of the bluff rising above them.
The attack came without warning.
Helmer’s ears were keen and well-trained, but their assailants appeared silently and as if from nowhere. They were rabbits, similar in stature to most of Helmer’s party. However, they were clad in formidable-looking armor, with helmets that fully enclosed their heads. The only visible openings were holes for the ears and a slit at eye level, which doubled as a vent so that the wearers could breathe.
Lord Captain Stam and his comrades wore much lighter armor designed for travel. However, this allowed them to swiftly recover from their surprise in order to engage the foe. The air soon rang with the clash of metal as sword met sword. Helmer’s comrades quickly either advanced on their opponents or were forced back, so that the melee became a series of smaller engagements.
One rabbit charged at Helmer, who dodged to one side and tripped them as they passed. He slammed the flat of his sword into the back of their helmet as they fell. Looking around, he saw-with grudging respect-that Hewson was handling two opponents at once with apparent ease. However, his eyes were swiftly drawn to an enemy rabbit who was attacking Captain Stam.
Stam swung his war hammer and struck his foe’s sword, blasting it out of their hand. Then, gripping the hammer with just one hand, he swung it back across. The blow dented his attacker’s helmet, spinning them around to land on their hands and knees. Obviously shaken, the strange rabbit reached up a trembling hand to remove their now useless headgear.
Resting his hammer against his shoulder, Stam gave a half smile. “Ye’re not lackin’ in nerve, buck, I’ll give ye that. But ye picked the wrong rabbit to play a game of fling-a-ding against. Now stay down; ye’ll do no good with a dented bucket and no weapon.”
Faster than Helmer would have thought possible, the rabbit spun around, took aim, and threw their helmet at Stam. The Lord Captain, also taken by surprise, was struck in the head. He stumbled backwards, while his assailant dove for their fallen sword. Realizing the lethal intent of the enemy, Helmer raced towards the pair.
As Stam fell to one knee, his opponent came at him again with their recovered sword. Helmer got between them just in time, using his own sword to catch a blow that would likely have slain his captain. The two swords locked together, ringing with the force of impact. Helmer found himself looking in the steely eyes of a tall, golden-furred…doe.
The would-be slayer of a Lord Captain of Natalia was a doe.
Helmer’s own eyes widened, but he remained firm as the doe pressed her blade against his. Her strength was incredible, and it was clear she was both fast and skilled. She glared at Helmer, obviously annoyed to have been thwarted. When she spoke, a curious accent and the plain anger in her voice made her sound almost like a wolf.
“Lesson number one: everything is a weapon!”
Sigrid regarded the black-furred buck blocking her sword coolly. The fact that he had managed to get between her and the hulking rabbit with the war hammer was impressive. However, he and his strange band were trespassers. And so she drew back her sword.
Recovering from his surprise, the black buck once again caught her blade on his own. Then he countered with a strike of his own, and his attacking speed proved just as impressive as his defense. He also surged aggressively, so that Sigrid backed away to avoid being overwhelmed. She quickly realized that he was forcing her away from his commander, but had to concentrate on her new foe.
Countering one of his strikes, Sigrid started driving him back. However, the black buck soon pressed her back again. Slash, parry, thrust, block, lunge, dodge-back and forth went the clash. Soon they had left the ground of their initial meeting and were driving and pursuing each other in every direction.
In spite of the fierce contest, the two made efforts to avoid running into any of their fellow combatants. Other rabbits also moved to avoid the fierce duel, eventually lowering their swords. Side by side, the members of the two bands of rabbits stared in astonishment. Even the big one, dazed from her helmet strike, managed to sit up and watch.
Gradually, Sigrid found that the fight had become something unlike any she had fought before. Though her focus never wavered, it no longer felt like she was battling to the death. Instead, she felt a strange exhilaration at finding her skills so perfectly matched. She could see something similar in the buck’s eyes, as though the heat of combat had somehow become the mutual respect of two masters of the same craft.
Unbelievably, what had begun as a mortal contest had become something that almost resembled a dance. The clash of swords was almost musical, the discord between two foes transformed into the harmony of collaborating artists. Blades met and parted only to meet again, as well-timed as though it were a planned exhibition. Incredible as it seemed, two enemies from nearly opposite ends of Natalia, who had never met before, had found in each other a perfect, complementary rhythm.
Finally, their limbs wearied but their spirits curiously energized, the pair brought their blades to a halt. They met with a ring, but rested lightly against each other rather than being pressed forcefully. Over their crossed steel, Sigrid regarded the black buck. She sensed that, like her, he was trying not to gape with awe.
Trying not to drop her guard, Sigrid addressed him. “I am Sigrid, First Guardian of Tarvan Bluff. Who is you being, and why is you being in our home place?”
“My name is Helmer, lieutenant in the army of King Jupiter,” the black buck replied, after puzzling out her words. His accent was different from any Sigrid had ever heard, and she supposed hers must be just as unfamiliar to him. “The king has sent us, under Lord Captain Stam, to scout things out. He waits at the base of the bluff with the rest of our comrades from First Warren.”
Sigrid’s eyes widened in astonishment. “First Warren? You is being from the First Warren? King Jupiter, you say…does he be the heir of Landerking?”
Leaning on his war hammer like a cane, the big rabbit-Lord Captain Stam, Sigrid supposed-stumped up behind Helmer. He still looked shaky after being struck by her helmet. She winced inwardly, realizing she might have made a serious mistake. As if sensing this, the massive buck offered her a crooked grin.
“Don’t ye be frettin’, missy. Me old head’s taken worse knocks, though few as beautifully aimed as yers. King Jupiter is indeed the heir of Lander Whitson, both by blood and in spirit. And as Lander sent yer forebears forth, so now Jupiter comes seeking to join with ye in friendship once more.”
Hardly daring to believe what she had been told, Sigrid lowered her sword. Helmer did likewise, not taking his eyes off Sigrid.
Then, in another display of symmetry, both of them sheathed their blades. The noise helped to ground Sigrid, and she bowed her head to Stam.
“Please to be forgiving me, Lord Captain. Strangers are seldom being friends to us. And this…this is being something that our fathers’ fathers have not been looking for. I shall be bringing you and your rabbits to our Chief Tarvan.”
At Stam’s nod of agreement, Hewson and the other Great Wood rabbits sheathed their weapons. Sigrid’s party did likewise, and Helmer helped up one who had fallen. The gesture further impressed Sigrid, especially when Helmer explained sheepishly that he had stunned the rabbit during the battle. With both the Tarvan soldier and Captain Stam being assisted by their comrades, the two parties made their way up the bluff.
By unspoken agreement, Helmer joined Sigrid at the head of the party. Looking at the black buck, Sigrid tried to get more of a sense about him. Despite their truce, he remained vigilant, obviously determined to answer any further threats or obstacles. However, beneath this trained readiness, she got a sense that he was somewhat tongue-tied.
Ruefully, she realized that she knew exactly how he felt. Most of the bucks she knew, she’d known her whole life. Few of those she’d met since had been under peaceful circumstances. How did you start a conversation with a rabbit whom you’d met as an enemy, but now found yourself admiring?
“You have long been a soldier, Lieutenant Helmer?”
“Oh…a few years now. My family has a farm in First Warren. I never imagined I’d join the army when I came of age. But King Jupiter seeks to reunite rabbitkind, and he called for bucks to aid in that great work. I felt that I couldn’t stay on my parents’ farm.”
Nodding, Sigrid began sharing her own history. “I know this feeling well. We of Chief Tarvan’s band have long been needing both bucks and does to fight for our home safety. When I grew work big, I asked to train as a Guardian.”
“Did…did you always want to? And what did your family think?”
“Mine mother was a Guardian, and is proud to be seeing me serve. Father had been hoping I would be becoming a weaver, like him.” Suddenly, Sigrid smiled as a memory came to her. “After a week of trying to be teaching me, he was giving up. He said my weaving looked to having been made by a spider with no eyes.”
Helmer gave his own smile in answer. Before either could say more, they arrived at the gate to the settlement where Sigrid and her comrades lived. Additional Guardians, who had undoubtedly been anxiously awaiting the return of their comrades, gaped as they saw them walking in company with strangers. Sigrid quickly allayed their fears, and sent two of them bearing news.
Before long, a group of healers arrived to help with Lord Captain Stam and the Guardian Helmer had stunned. One of them was a lanky brown rabbit with wispy fur around his head. He had one ear that flopped forward and another that pointed straight up. Squinting at the new arrivals, he briefly widened his eyes in surprise, revealing that one of them actually stared off in a wildly different direction from the other.
As one of the healers called for the lanky rabbit to help support her comrade, Sigrid heard Helmer whisper. “What’s the story with that one?”
“That is being a sad story,” Sigrid answered with a frown that demonstrated the sincerity of her statement. “He is longing to be one of our healers, but can do little because of his eyes. Still, he does the best he can, though he doesn’t speak much. His name is being…Zeiger.”