The rain fell heavily on the ground creating small shimmering mirrors of water across the valley. Beyond the valley the Hawk nosed face of the warrior Hedj Iretey stood blank in ponderance, surveying the mountains to the east separating Nemedia from Aquilonia. The Skullsplitter compound, a large and imposing structure, lay partially hidden by thick trees on three sides, and a sharp cliff dropping into a valley on the east. In the last year the compound had grown tremendously, and signs of addition and reinforcement were betrayed by new wood, over older, grey planks. A new stone wall surrounded the compound, along with added stone lookout towers, hidden at their tops by foliage to look like large trees. A mercenary Brigade always had to be weary of retribution, and with recent gold and resources, payment for allying with Aquilonia's king, Hedj had fortified his compound.
Hedj was pleased with himself. Before his ascension to Brigade Chief the Skullsplitters had not tasted battle for a long time. The compound had fallen to ruin, and his men, under the rule of Amadán, had become restless and poor. Nearly three years as Brigade Chief had brought renewal to the Skullsplitters, battle to their blades and fear to their name. He had thwarted many attempts at mutiny, a nuisance that Hedj wrote off as offspring in a marriage between sword and mercenary. To his mind, Hedj was the greatest Brigade Chief the Skullsplitters had known. He was so focused on his thoughts of self-praise that he nearly did not hear his Legatus approach from behind him. With the speed of a demon Hedj wheeled around, arm outstretched in front of him, his small hand axe mere inches from his Legatus' brow.
"Calamus. You should announce yourself when you approach. It would be a shame if you bore our namesake on your crown."
"Forgive me Chief Iretey. I have come to remind you that the end of this moon cycle is one week from today. Shall I not announce the Challenge again?"
"Why? There are none to oppose me Calamus, yet you ask me without fail every month if I should waste time with this ridiculous tradition. I would think that you wanted to challenge me, did I not know any better," Hedj raised a brow to Calamus, testing his resolve.
"Of course not chief. I only wish to honor tradition. But you are right, it has been years since you have entertained a challenge to your position," Calamus' words sounded hollow, and shallow in their subservience.
Hedj eyed Calamus with his cold, grey eyes, his sharply hooked nose shifting side to side as he stared, as if he could not judge Calamus with both eyes at once. Suddenly Calamus felt as a mouse, eyed intently by the hawk.
"Speak your mind Calamus. Do not treat me as a noble whelp that cannot see his kingdom for having his head implanted in his rear."
"I intend no disrespect chief. Our brigade has been quite prosperous in your leadership, but we are weakened. In our last foray for King Conan he used us for bait, chief. It becomes dangerous to commit our blades to this king; he will hand us to the wolves when he is threatened, he has proven this."
Hedj snarled, "and you think that someone will attempt to take my crown? HA! Even if there were a brainless fool ambitious enough to threaten my seat they would simply join the rest of our comrades in the ground. We have lost enough men these last weeks. No Calamus, there will be no Challenge this month."
Before allowing Hedj further opportunity to judge his sincerity Calamus bowed quickly, wheeled on his heels and promptly exited his chief's presence.
2
Fresh mortar could still be seen oozing from between the boulders that constructed the Legatus' quarters. It had been completed only days before, the supplies having been purchased with coins from a king, but paid for by the blood of battle with Vanir raiders during the Skullsplitters last employ. Inside the headquarters the Legatus, commanders of the Skullsplitters Brigade, sat nervously waiting for Calamus' return. Tension filled the small earthen-floored room; the Legatus wore troubled frowns openly on their faces. As the door to the building flew open the men at the table gave a start, and the man closest to the door jumped from his seat, facing the intruder at the door, with a large curved dagger that seemed as an extension of his own hand.
"Be at ease Pecore! I swear that your lust to slay first and look later will get the better of you some day."
The rogue lowered his dagger, shrugging nonchalantly, once again sitting in his chair. Calamus securely shut the door, testing it to ensure their privacy. As he walked around the side of the table where the men sat, an old man wearing a modest robe stood and grabbed his arm. Calamus stopped in his tracks, wheeling his head to stare intently at the old Stygian. The old mage stared back, his misshapen nose almost pointing at Calamus as he tried to read his face.
"Well? Are we to hold the Challenge?"
"No Khet. Our leader still wishes to betray our custom, and hold power for himself. Men, we will have to decide whether we are to evoke the Right of Privilege, or remain under Hedj Iretey's command."
"We have seen much gold with Hedj, this decision is not to be made lightly," the old Stygian stated.
"Aye, we have become rich, but we should be richer!" screamed Draxtle, slamming the butt of his sword on the table. "Our chief has been hoarding payments for himself. He gives us only enough to keep us silent. The pig has no regard for his men, and every coin he does not declare to us is a coin he steals from my purse! I will empty his skull myself, and fill it with his ill gotten gold!"
"Still", continued Khet, "here we stand plotting the overthrow of our chief, protected by fortified chambers built by his leadership. We must be clear that we intend to remove a prosperous commander."
"Aye, the old man speaks true. I have ne'er cleaved more heads asunder than on Hedj's battlefields," offered Pecore, picking his teeth with his dagger.
"This is true," Said Calamus, taking a seat between the old Stygian and the wily Aquilonian rogue. "We have spilled much blood, and spent even more coin in recent past. But our ranks dwindle with every foray that we enter in the name of Aquilonia. Our men care not for this land. Skullsplitters fight for coin. We fight for lust. Never before have we fought for one king, and since we have, we have more than halved our ranks. If we are to keep this pace for another winter, there will not be enough men to bury the dead. Who will sing of our battles then? Conan? He cares naught for us. Nay, we must see to our own to survive. We must take our brigade back from our tyrant chief."
The discussion continued for more than three hours, opinions changing back and forth as to what was to be done. In the end the Legatus came to a decision. Hedj Iretey was to be removed as Chief.
3
Hedj observed his brigade from his podium on top of his hall. He reflected on his last three years and was pleased. With the gold that he had brought to the Skullsplitters, they must think him a king. Where the gold had been coming from, and how much he kept for himself were not a part of his thoughts as he stood triumphantly over his men. He raised his arms wide, a great hawk preying over a field of mice.
"Tonight we leave for the Bossonian Marches! In two weeks time we will join with King Conan's army and repel the Pictish advances! This will be a long and bloody battle against a foe whose mind is feeble enough to think that he can make his way into our kingdom of Aquilonia! Many of us will not make it back to our compound, but those of us who do will be paid handsomely. Our King has offered much gold and jewels for our aid in this campaign, and we will earn every coin with our blood!"
The great leader stood imposing over his masses, clenching his fist in the air to emphasize his statement, golden glimmers of motivation almost visible in his grey eyes. Hedj was so engrossed in his own speech he did not notice his brigades look of disdain at his mention of Aquilonia being their kingdom, nor Conan their king. Many Skullsplitters joined the brigade because the kingdom would no longer have them in her armies, and even more never had called Aquilonia home. Had Hedj noticed their sullen faces, he would not have had time to ponder their spirits, as his Legatus, fully dressed in armor, quickly made their way up to his podium, led by Calamus.
"What is this madness that my Legatus would interrupt me as I address our men," Hedj demanded with a scowl forming on his face.
Hedj stared directly at Calamus, a fierce snarl appearing under the sharp tip of his hooked beak. Calamus' reply was short, "They are not your men any longer Hedj."
Hedj seemed almost stunned, his surprise showing only for an instant. "What say you? And who is to take them from me? You, Calamus? This is not the Challenge of Conquest dog! I will cleave your skull and leave you to ponder your treachery in the afterlife!"
Calamus ignored Hedj's words and turned to face the Brigade.
"Our Chief has broken the law of the Skullsplitters by abolishing our only observed tradition. For three years Hedj Iretey has held our brigade hostage, as a dictator King. He has sold our swords and his soul to the king of Aquilonia, and worse, has hidden payment from us that we earned with our blood! For these transgressions we, the Legatus, invoke the Right of Privilege to unseat our Chief!"
Calamus calmly drew his sword, turned, and once again faced the maddened Chief, whose eyes were almost white, burning with hatred and betrayal.
"If you step down willingly we will permit you to keep your life. But I swear to you, if you resist us we will empty your guts on these podium steps."
His answer came swiftly, but not through words. With blinding speed Hedj grabbed his axe from his belt, leaped from his perch and descended upon his aggressor. Calamus seemed to stand stunned; his sword still at his side. As Hedj began his forward swing for Calamus' breastplate it seemed as though the Stygian's speed would ensure victory for him once again, as it always had in the past. It was at the last possible moment that Calamus began to move, rotating his body, and leaning to his right as his sword reached, almost non-threateningly, towards his enemy. As Hedj's axe rang off of Calamus' armored chest he became aware that Calamus had not intended to evade his attack, but only lean from it to lessen its impact. Before the once great leader of the Skullsplitters could understand the madness of Calamus' awkward tactic he felt white hot pain in his left thigh. As Hedj stepped down to steady himself from his assault, he had flown directly into the deceptively lazy sword stroke, swung in the Stygian's path seemingly by accident, slashing his thigh to the bone.
As both men staggered back, Hedj found that he could no longer hold himself upright. Hobbling backward, he sturdied himself on one leg, staring in disbelief as Calamus choked, gasping for breath. Could Hedj advance on his enemy, Calamus would not have time to catch his breath, but all he could do was stare at his former prey, feeling warm streams of blood flood from his thigh as a waterfall exits a mountain glacier. As Calamus struggled to tear off his breastplate Hedj noticed a large crater in its center, which was surely the cause of his lack of breath. Hedj afforded himself a look at his thigh. He could see his life squeezing through large slabs of muscle hanging from his leg. It reminded him of wild fowl, skinned and hung to bleed at the Butchers Square. As Calamus caught his breath he spoke, raising his sword to indicate whom he addressed.
"This is your last chance to step down Hedj. Your wings have been clipped; there is no way you can win."
"Foolish pup!" Hedj blasted through slobbering lips, his vision getting darker. He felt as though he had drank too much ale, and he stared at Calamus as though through a long hallway. His unfocused eyes a dim grey, almost hidden in their sockets. "You have already killed me, yet you speak to me as though you speak to a living man. End this quickly, while I still have strength to meet your blade on my feet."
No more words needed to be said. With his blade extended in front of him, Calamus approached his former chief, who made no effort to move. The Stygian's eyes grew inhumanly wide as the tip of his slayers blade entered his throat, just below his chin. Calamus pressed hard in a sharp thrust, and let up only once he felt the resistance of the wooden wall behind where Hedj had stood. As Calamus withdrew his blade the Stygian's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his lifeless body collapsed at its usurpers feet. Calamus bent down, removed the Stygian ring from the corpse's finger, staring at it for a moment. Then he rose, and turned to his Brigade.
"I am now the Chief of the Skullsplitters. No longer will any man rule as a dictator over our brigade! The Challenge of Conquest is to be honored, and from this day any Chief who attempts to ignore it shall be retired by force. We will not be joining the King of Aquilonia in the Bossonian Marches, nor will we be his lapdogs any longer! We are mercenaries, and are loyal to none but the gold that is offered to us. Bury this corpse. He was mad, but he brought much to us. He will be buried as a chief."
And the new chief of the Skullsplitters walked into his hall, his spirits high. In the following months he would see his compound destroyed, and most of his brigade slaughtered by a retaliatory King, who after being deserted by his mercenaries in the Bossonian Marches was no longer assured that the Skullsplitters blades would not point his direction. The Skullsplitters would survive, and once again take their place as feared and respected mercenaries of Hyboria... but that is another story, for another time.
-Fin
The rain fell heavily on the ground creating small shimmering mirrors of water across the valley. Beyond the valley the Hawk nosed face of the warrior Hedj Iretey stood blank in ponderance, surveying the mountains to the east separating Nemedia from Aquilonia. The Skullsplitter compound, a large and imposing structure, lay partially hidden by thick trees on three sides, and a sharp cliff dropping into a valley on the east. In the last year the compound had grown tremendously, and signs of addition and reinforcement were betrayed by new wood, over older, grey planks. A new stone wall surrounded the compound, along with added stone lookout towers, hidden at their tops by foliage to look like large trees. A mercenary Brigade always had to be weary of retribution, and with recent gold and resources, payment for allying with Aquilonia's king, Hedj had fortified his compound.
Hedj was pleased with himself. Before his ascension to Brigade Chief the Skullsplitters had not tasted battle for a long time. The compound had fallen to ruin, and his men, under the rule of Amadán, had become restless and poor. Nearly three years as Brigade Chief had brought renewal to the Skullsplitters, battle to their blades and fear to their name. He had thwarted many attempts at mutiny, a nuisance that Hedj wrote off as offspring in a marriage between sword and mercenary. To his mind, Hedj was the greatest Brigade Chief the Skullsplitters had known. He was so focused on his thoughts of self-praise that he nearly did not hear his Legatus approach from behind him. With the speed of a demon Hedj wheeled around, arm outstretched in front of him, his small hand axe mere inches from his Legatus' brow.
"Calamus. You should announce yourself when you approach. It would be a shame if you bore our namesake on your crown."
"Forgive me Chief Iretey. I have come to remind you that the end of this moon cycle is one week from today. Shall I not announce the Challenge again?"
"Why? There are none to oppose me Calamus, yet you ask me without fail every month if I should waste time with this ridiculous tradition. I would think that you wanted to challenge me, did I not know any better," Hedj raised a brow to Calamus, testing his resolve.
"Of course not chief. I only wish to honor tradition. But you are right, it has been years since you have entertained a challenge to your position," Calamus' words sounded hollow, and shallow in their subservience.
Hedj eyed Calamus with his cold, grey eyes, his sharply hooked nose shifting side to side as he stared, as if he could not judge Calamus with both eyes at once. Suddenly Calamus felt as a mouse, eyed intently by the hawk.
"Speak your mind Calamus. Do not treat me as a noble whelp that cannot see his kingdom for having his head implanted in his rear."
"I intend no disrespect chief. Our brigade has been quite prosperous in your leadership, but we are weakened. In our last foray for King Conan he used us for bait, chief. It becomes dangerous to commit our blades to this king; he will hand us to the wolves when he is threatened, he has proven this."
Hedj snarled, "and you think that someone will attempt to take my crown? HA! Even if there were a brainless fool ambitious enough to threaten my seat they would simply join the rest of our comrades in the ground. We have lost enough men these last weeks. No Calamus, there will be no Challenge this month."
Before allowing Hedj further opportunity to judge his sincerity Calamus bowed quickly, wheeled on his heels and promptly exited his chief's presence.
2
Fresh mortar could still be seen oozing from between the boulders that constructed the Legatus' quarters. It had been completed only days before, the supplies having been purchased with coins from a king, but paid for by the blood of battle with Vanir raiders during the Skullsplitters last employ. Inside the headquarters the Legatus, commanders of the Skullsplitters Brigade, sat nervously waiting for Calamus' return. Tension filled the small earthen-floored room; the Legatus wore troubled frowns openly on their faces. As the door to the building flew open the men at the table gave a start, and the man closest to the door jumped from his seat, facing the intruder at the door, with a large curved dagger that seemed as an extension of his own hand.
"Be at ease Pecore! I swear that your lust to slay first and look later will get the better of you some day."
The rogue lowered his dagger, shrugging nonchalantly, once again sitting in his chair. Calamus securely shut the door, testing it to ensure their privacy. As he walked around the side of the table where the men sat, an old man wearing a modest robe stood and grabbed his arm. Calamus stopped in his tracks, wheeling his head to stare intently at the old Stygian. The old mage stared back, his misshapen nose almost pointing at Calamus as he tried to read his face.
"Well? Are we to hold the Challenge?"
"No Khet. Our leader still wishes to betray our custom, and hold power for himself. Men, we will have to decide whether we are to evoke the Right of Privilege, or remain under Hedj Iretey's command."
"We have seen much gold with Hedj, this decision is not to be made lightly," the old Stygian stated.
"Aye, we have become rich, but we should be richer!" screamed Draxtle, slamming the butt of his sword on the table. "Our chief has been hoarding payments for himself. He gives us only enough to keep us silent. The pig has no regard for his men, and every coin he does not declare to us is a coin he steals from my purse! I will empty his skull myself, and fill it with his ill gotten gold!"
"Still", continued Khet, "here we stand plotting the overthrow of our chief, protected by fortified chambers built by his leadership. We must be clear that we intend to remove a prosperous commander."
"Aye, the old man speaks true. I have ne'er cleaved more heads asunder than on Hedj's battlefields," offered Pecore, picking his teeth with his dagger.
"This is true," Said Calamus, taking a seat between the old Stygian and the wily Aquilonian rogue. "We have spilled much blood, and spent even more coin in recent past. But our ranks dwindle with every foray that we enter in the name of Aquilonia. Our men care not for this land. Skullsplitters fight for coin. We fight for lust. Never before have we fought for one king, and since we have, we have more than halved our ranks. If we are to keep this pace for another winter, there will not be enough men to bury the dead. Who will sing of our battles then? Conan? He cares naught for us. Nay, we must see to our own to survive. We must take our brigade back from our tyrant chief."
The discussion continued for more than three hours, opinions changing back and forth as to what was to be done. In the end the Legatus came to a decision. Hedj Iretey was to be removed as Chief.
3
Hedj observed his brigade from his podium on top of his hall. He reflected on his last three years and was pleased. With the gold that he had brought to the Skullsplitters, they must think him a king. Where the gold had been coming from, and how much he kept for himself were not a part of his thoughts as he stood triumphantly over his men. He raised his arms wide, a great hawk preying over a field of mice.
"Tonight we leave for the Bossonian Marches! In two weeks time we will join with King Conan's army and repel the Pictish advances! This will be a long and bloody battle against a foe whose mind is feeble enough to think that he can make his way into our kingdom of Aquilonia! Many of us will not make it back to our compound, but those of us who do will be paid handsomely. Our King has offered much gold and jewels for our aid in this campaign, and we will earn every coin with our blood!"
The great leader stood imposing over his masses, clenching his fist in the air to emphasize his statement, golden glimmers of motivation almost visible in his grey eyes. Hedj was so engrossed in his own speech he did not notice his brigades look of disdain at his mention of Aquilonia being their kingdom, nor Conan their king. Many Skullsplitters joined the brigade because the kingdom would no longer have them in her armies, and even more never had called Aquilonia home. Had Hedj noticed their sullen faces, he would not have had time to ponder their spirits, as his Legatus, fully dressed in armor, quickly made their way up to his podium, led by Calamus.
"What is this madness that my Legatus would interrupt me as I address our men," Hedj demanded with a scowl forming on his face.
Hedj stared directly at Calamus, a fierce snarl appearing under the sharp tip of his hooked beak. Calamus' reply was short, "They are not your men any longer Hedj."
Hedj seemed almost stunned, his surprise showing only for an instant. "What say you? And who is to take them from me? You, Calamus? This is not the Challenge of Conquest dog! I will cleave your skull and leave you to ponder your treachery in the afterlife!"
Calamus ignored Hedj's words and turned to face the Brigade.
"Our Chief has broken the law of the Skullsplitters by abolishing our only observed tradition. For three years Hedj Iretey has held our brigade hostage, as a dictator King. He has sold our swords and his soul to the king of Aquilonia, and worse, has hidden payment from us that we earned with our blood! For these transgressions we, the Legatus, invoke the Right of Privilege to unseat our Chief!"
Calamus calmly drew his sword, turned, and once again faced the maddened Chief, whose eyes were almost white, burning with hatred and betrayal.
"If you step down willingly we will permit you to keep your life. But I swear to you, if you resist us we will empty your guts on these podium steps."
His answer came swiftly, but not through words. With blinding speed Hedj grabbed his axe from his belt, leaped from his perch and descended upon his aggressor. Calamus seemed to stand stunned; his sword still at his side. As Hedj began his forward swing for Calamus' breastplate it seemed as though the Stygian's speed would ensure victory for him once again, as it always had in the past. It was at the last possible moment that Calamus began to move, rotating his body, and leaning to his right as his sword reached, almost non-threateningly, towards his enemy. As Hedj's axe rang off of Calamus' armored chest he became aware that Calamus had not intended to evade his attack, but only lean from it to lessen its impact. Before the once great leader of the Skullsplitters could understand the madness of Calamus' awkward tactic he felt white hot pain in his left thigh. As Hedj stepped down to steady himself from his assault, he had flown directly into the deceptively lazy sword stroke, swung in the Stygian's path seemingly by accident, slashing his thigh to the bone.
As both men staggered back, Hedj found that he could no longer hold himself upright. Hobbling backward, he sturdied himself on one leg, staring in disbelief as Calamus choked, gasping for breath. Could Hedj advance on his enemy, Calamus would not have time to catch his breath, but all he could do was stare at his former prey, feeling warm streams of blood flood from his thigh as a waterfall exits a mountain glacier. As Calamus struggled to tear off his breastplate Hedj noticed a large crater in its center, which was surely the cause of his lack of breath. Hedj afforded himself a look at his thigh. He could see his life squeezing through large slabs of muscle hanging from his leg. It reminded him of wild fowl, skinned and hung to bleed at the Butchers Square. As Calamus caught his breath he spoke, raising his sword to indicate whom he addressed.
"This is your last chance to step down Hedj. Your wings have been clipped; there is no way you can win."
"Foolish pup!" Hedj blasted through slobbering lips, his vision getting darker. He felt as though he had drank too much ale, and he stared at Calamus as though through a long hallway. His unfocused eyes a dim grey, almost hidden in their sockets. "You have already killed me, yet you speak to me as though you speak to a living man. End this quickly, while I still have strength to meet your blade on my feet."
No more words needed to be said. With his blade extended in front of him, Calamus approached his former chief, who made no effort to move. The Stygian's eyes grew inhumanly wide as the tip of his slayers blade entered his throat, just below his chin. Calamus pressed hard in a sharp thrust, and let up only once he felt the resistance of the wooden wall behind where Hedj had stood. As Calamus withdrew his blade the Stygian's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his lifeless body collapsed at its usurpers feet. Calamus bent down, removed the Stygian ring from the corpse's finger, staring at it for a moment. Then he rose, and turned to his Brigade.
"I am now the Chief of the Skullsplitters. No longer will any man rule as a dictator over our brigade! The Challenge of Conquest is to be honored, and from this day any Chief who attempts to ignore it shall be retired by force. We will not be joining the King of Aquilonia in the Bossonian Marches, nor will we be his lapdogs any longer! We are mercenaries, and are loyal to none but the gold that is offered to us. Bury this corpse. He was mad, but he brought much to us. He will be buried as a chief."
And the new chief of the Skullsplitters walked into his hall, his spirits high. In the following months he would see his compound destroyed, and most of his brigade slaughtered by a retaliatory King, who after being deserted by his mercenaries in the Bossonian Marches was no longer assured that the Skullsplitters blades would not point his direction. The Skullsplitters would survive, and once again take their place as feared and respected mercenaries of Hyboria... but that is another story, for another time.
-Fin