Chapter Five: The Laughing Blade

The lords and ladies of the court looked out of place on the Ironcrest Veranda, Orther thought, as he watched and joked and teased the ladies looking down on him from atop his steed. Putting on his hunting gear and looking at himself in the mirror earlier in the day, he knew the looks he would get, the small sighs from the ladies who weren’t getting enough attention from their betrothed or worse, husbands. Though…maybe that was better…he thought. 

One such lady shook her personal handkerchief at him before letting go and watched it flutter down. Like the real charmer he was, right at the last minute he moved his steed out of the way of the cloth and let it fall onto the muddy ground. “Forgive me, my lady. I’ve never trusted anything that lands too easily in my hands.” 

An appropriate amount of chuckles came out of the group of ladies who crowded around the fence to see him. The lady who was without a handkerchief, smiled slightly too, but her neck had turned almost a cherry red with embarrassment. ‘Perhaps I'll find a quiet moment later tonight to make a more personal apology.’ Orther thought and gave a sly smile as he turned to see his older brother approaching on a much grander steed than the one he rode. 

“Brother,” Walric called. 

“Your highness,” Orther bowed exuberantly. 

“We came here to hunt, maybe we should actually gather our company and do so?” Walric made it clear he wasn’t going to let Orther charm any more of the noble ladies. 

“I do not think it is I that you need to worry about gathering. It seems like every other lord here is preoccupied.” Orther may have been chatting with the ladies, but his view went a lot farther than the fair maidens’ eyes…and what was below for that matter. 

Even getting to the hunting grounds was…interesting. There were many more guards than he remembered from the last hunt. The peasants who liked to watch from the fence were now no longer allowed to go any farther than the road to the forest. Even as he and his brother trotted to the group of lords who were participating in the hunt he noticed servants avoiding eye contact and being a lot more hushed as they passed. 

There were many who were participating in High King Malrik’s annual hunt. It was anticipated, something to look forward to when the snow began to melt and the days grew warm. He knew there were certain nobles his father was using this event to have private conversations with, one of them being Lady Altherys of Cindrailth and her nephew, the Archduke D’ar of Noni Dommon, the heir to both his father’s land and his aunt’s. He was a brute of a man, Orther knew for a fact he had yet to see D’ar smile. 

He sat on his horse with three of his guards, looking unhappy as unhappy could be. One of them looked in Orther’s direction and he smiled as big as he could and nodded and…nothing. The guard looked away, eyebrows turned down more than they once were. 

“A fun group we got this year.” Orther said louder than was modest. 

“Hush, little brother. Just enjoy some much needed time outside of those castle walls. I hear there’s a whole herd out there today.” Walric pushed Orther in the arm as if he could get him excited. 

In fact, Orther was under the impression that Walric was actually trying to muster excitement for the entire group. None looked particularly excited, maybe the little lords who were on their first hunt, but other than that, all frowns. As High King Malrik made his way to the front of the large group, nearly surrounded by his own guards, he pulled out his whistle on the chain around his neck, one that all the lords carried on their hunt. One blow was to mark a kill, two marked an accident. Orther quietly wondered what exactly would happen if he blew three…or four….or five…

“Lord and ladies of Korvethis…” High King Malrik spoke in a voice that made the entire gathering grow quiet. He let the silence settle before he continued. “The snow has receded, the rivers run once more, and the forests awaken beneath our feet. Today, we do as we have always done. We ride, we hunt, and we remind this land that it is not wild, it is ruled.” 

“This hunt is not merely for sport. It is a tradition older than the stones of this castle. A test of skill. Of instinct. Of discipline.” Malrik slowly moved his gaze across the gathered nobles in front of him. “Out there, beyond these walls, the world does not bend for titles. The stag does not kneel for a crown. The forest does not yield to a name. It is only through strength, through unity, that we take what is ours.”

High King Malrik paused long enough for Orther to wonder if he was waiting for an applause. “And, we will take what is ours. You ride today not only as hunters, but as stewards for this kingdom. What you bring down feeds more than your pride, it feeds your people. Remember that.” 

Orther watched his father, but he felt the unrest move in the group around him.

“Let no man leave these woods empty handed. And let no man forget who placed him in the saddle.” Malrik took the whistle around his neck and lifted it to his face. “Ride well. Hunt clean, and do not mistake mercy for weakness, out there, or within these walls. Begin.” 

The whistle rang out and the stampeding of approximately fifty horses began. Orther would usually follow his brother, who usually followed their father, but this time, he felt an urge to go the way the Archduke of Noni Dommon was going. He wasn’t the only one who steered that direction. It was common for the large group to break off into smaller groups, but he was very curious to see that D’ar’s group looked as if they were purposefully trying to get away from everyone. 

He slowed his pace, not ready for a race, but not willing to let the Archduke go quite yet. He made sure he knew where they were, but tried his best to stay hidden. 

“Brother!” Walric shouted. 

Orther looked around wildly, “You do want to catch a deer today don’t you?” 

Walric caught up to him, out of breath. “What are you up to? I turned to see you were gone. I thought perhaps you took a fall of some sort.” 

“A fall? Only from favor, my valiant brother, not from grace. I land where I intend.” Orther reminded him. 

“Of course.” Walric sighed. “So why are we not with our father?” 

“You are not with him because you decided the potential to tell a story of saving your little brother’s life was more important than never catching a deer with how many guards our father had around him. I am not…because I found myself a more curious man to follow.” Orther pointed through the trees at the Archduke who was very far away by now. 

“Archduke D’ar? What, is his outfit not up to your standards?” Walric asked with a smirk.

“Well, yes of course, but there is more that I’m curious about.” Orther replied before he nudged his horse to move a little quicker. 

Walric trailed beside him. “Is this curiosity beneficial to the current hunt we have been ordered to participate in?” 

“He seemed rather unhappy for being invited to hunt. Wasn’t the Lady Altherys only coming because her nephew wanted to participate?” Orther asked. 

Walric clenched his jaw. Orther shot up an eyebrow. “We are here to have a good time, brother, no need to look into people’s attitudes to determine malice.” 

For a few hours the two royal sons kept a steady pace behind the Archduke. After a good long while with it just being the two of them they picked up a few more lords that were more content to chatter softly than look for deer. 

When the Archduke stopped his pace, though, Orther stopped as well, making the handful of men behind him follow his lead. He held out his hand for the group to stay as he jumped down off of his horse to get closer on foot. He grabbed his bow and two arrows before he left, handing the reins of his horse to Walric.

Orther drew closer to D’ar and stopped about twenty feet away when he saw what D’ar saw, a stag, at the end of a thick brush, eating what few berries he could find on the brambles. 

Orther watched as the Archduke drew out his bow shakingly, fumbling with his arrows before he pulled one out. “This one is almost too easy.” he heard D’ar boast. 

Orther rolled his eyes and went to take out his bow. 

“Brother, this is not a good idea.” Walric hissed, right behind Orther, making him jump and grab his chest to stifle a shout.

“Strange,” Orther said lightly after he got his breath back. “I would’ve thought you of all people would be eager to follow father’s orders.” 

Walric’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t what he meant.” 

Orther smiled, already reaching for his bow. “Do not mistake mercy for weakness. I’m simply making sure no one does.”Orther pulled out his arrow and aimed. He had a moment of hesitation, wondering if what Walric said was for the best, but when did he ever do anything for the best of his family? He launched his arrow straight through the clearing and into the neck of the stag. It jumped and thrashed before it stumbled and fell. D’ar put down his bow, looking as shocked as the stag was moments ago. 

Orther blew his whistle as he approached the Archduke with his guards. The handful of lords trotted up behind them. “Forgive me. My lord. I thought we were hunting, not rehearsing.” The sly smile crept up on his face. The other lords behind him chuckled loudly. Orther did not turn, but he knew Walric was not included with the laughter. 

Archduke D’ar looked away. His chest rose and fell. Once. Twice. Then he screamed, raw and sudden, and snapped the bow across his knee. His horse moved wildly for a moment, but his guards were able to calm him down. 

The forest grew silent, only for a moment, before Orther felt obligated to push, just a little farther. “I meant no insult. Though I admit, I’ve never seen a man mourn a deer with such an irrational feeling.” 

Again the other lords laughed, the Archdukes guards put their hands on their hilts, ready to fight. 

“Easy to laugh when your table is full.” Archduke D’ar spat. 

The laughter got sucked up in a void. “My lord.” one of his guards whispered. 

“Hush!” Archduke D’ar yelled at his guard. “I will not be in this forest, being mocked by the Laughing Blade, while those he serves search for rats meat!” 

Orther, usually quick with his words, couldn’t think of a thing to say, but couldn’t stop the picture forming in his head of what the Archduke had implied. 

“I do believe I hear our High King’s whistle.” Walric pulled his horse up into the front of the standoff. “We must not keep him waiting.” 

The lords shifted their horses slowly around to head back to the castle, though Orther stayed still, his eyes never leaving the rage D’ar gave back to him. “Then perhaps the stag died in service after all. Feed it to the men who came farther than the rest of us and call me generous.” 

He turned slowly, the other lords chuckling half heartedly as they made their way back to the castle walls. 

Walric was much less forgiving for the rest of the ride and once their horses were put back in their stalls, he cornered him, redder than average. “Must you always push to the limit? This day was supposed to be for leisure, and you almost caused an incident with a powerful lord.” 

“More powerful than our father?” Orther asked, very curious to hear his brother’s reply. 

Walric took a step back and a big breath before he answered. “Orther, that man commands more hungry men than you have friends.” 

Orther wasn’t dense, he knew that kingdoms may say they are ruled only by one, but the truth was if those around him weren’t happy, then the country was unstable. 

As he left his brother and returned back to the castle he eyed all the peasants still by the road in the afternoon light. He realized that they were shouting praises, they were shouting slander and slurs. 

Orther had thought he was the spark. But the woods were already dry.