The Netheron Chronicles by Joseph Black (8 ebook reader .txt) 📖

in the hopes of scaring their enemies a bit, but he had found that it was far un-nerving for the enemy if his men where silent in everything.
“Eleventh Legion, 1C, ten left!” He snapped to his bugler.
The instant the last of the piercing notes died away the right wing’s cavalry force charged forward, perfectly even, their formation impeccable, no noise reaching Jaden other than the thunder of horse’s hooves on the hard dirt.
Jaden made a mental note to promote the leader of the Eleventh Legion, if he survived.
The Halavardes seemed rather out of sorts, their lines where ragged, their men were shouting incoherently, and Jaden saw no evidence of the kind of weapons being procured that they would need to stop, or even slow down, a heavy cavalry charge like they had coming. All of their catapults and siege weapons where pointed the wrong way. This was exactly what he had been hoping for.
It was almost sad, the Halavardes where so pathetic when compared to a real army.
He wouldn’t even need to put half of his army into this battle.” Second and Third battalions, advance full forward!” He chuckled to himself, time for some entertainment, turning he nodded to his field marshal.” I’m going out with them, stay here and keep an eye on things.”
Any other officer would never have considered letting his commanders actually go into hand to hand combat, they were too valuable for that, but Jaden’s men knew him well. There was nothing in this battlefield that could stop their leader.
Slowly he turned his horse and spurred it forward, riding to take a position in front of the two seemingly endless lines of soldiers who had detached themselves from the ranks.
They had only gone twenty steps when the cavalry hit the Halavarde lines ahead of them. Jaden chuckled as the rows of opposing warriors crumpled under the charge, they were no match.
Behind him he could feel the tension in his men. He shrugged, that was how it should be, soldiers should be tense, ready for a fight, with an edge of fear, and commanders shouldn’t.
Finally there was some noise, sounds that only became more vivid as they approached their sources. The sounds of screams as men where ruthlessly cut down, the crash of steel on steel, the dying cries of horses, the sickening crunching smash as bones where broken and shattered.
Jaden smiled, he had been fighting for a long, long time, these sounds where music to his ears. He lived by them. He felt the tension mounting in his men, every here and there he felt a smolders of terror and a want to bolt. He fought back an urge to turn and cut down each man who felt that!
He shrugged off the urge and decided that as long as the men didn’t actually do it then he wouldn’t have too.
Inatrin?
Just as the slightly worried thought crossed his mind there was the sound of a bugle from behind him and the cavalry began to pull back, more roughly this time though, leaving behind them dozens of dead.
Good!
Turning he nodded to the men behind him and in instant response his orders where passed up the line by the sergeants, the next moment the back row of men knelt, leveled off thick, carved bows, and loosed a cloud of shafts into the sky. Perfect, he thought to himself, that was how men were supposed to fight, in perfect response to orders, in perfect silence.
He watched with avid fascination as the arrows arced across the sky and then slammed into the scattered mass of unorganized Halavardes. It was butchery.
But Jaden did have a sense of honor, though he personally believed men such as these Halavardes, who killed helpless women and children with just as much impunity as the army facing them now killed them, should be slaughtered without mercy. After two volleys he raised a reluctant hand and the men stopped firing. Each archer replaced his bow with a long steel shafted spear and long kite-shaped shield and took the front line.
They were only two hundred yards from the Halavarde lines, the cavalry had already fallen back behind them and where waiting another opportunity to charge in.
He tightened his grip on his sword hilt and raising the shining weapon over his head cried.” CHARGE!” That was all the men had been waiting for, an opportunity to break the tension before the fight, and as one they charged, silently of course.
Jaden smiled savagely, he felt no fear, and he knew nothing on this battlefield could harm him. War was nothing to him anymore; he had never lost a battle, and never would. If he did, then he wouldn’t live to regret it.
He spurred his horse forward and concentrated on his first target.
All of a sudden it was just him and the man he had in his mind’s eye, a tall, fairly well trained Halavarde officer on a white stallion. He smiled wider. Perfect.
He flipped his sword back, ready to deliver a powerful downward slash.
The man noticed him coming, and calling to his frantic soldiers behind him, drew his own sword and spurred his horse forward to meet him.
Jaden chuckled, he could feel no fear in this man, and he felt no hate though. The perfect commander! Pity I don’t have you on my side, I could use you.
The entire world turned to a blur; nothing was there but this man. Nothing could break his concentration.
The man guessed what Jaden was going to do, but he had underestimated the effects of what would come with the action. He gave his powerful overhead swing, his sword whistling through the air faster than sight, every ounce of strength that a 350 pound warrior could put into a weapon behind it.
The man did what was technically correct, he raised his shield to block the stroke, bracing himself, and readying his own weapon for a stroke at Jaden’s side as he passed. But that side stroke never happened.
Jaden’s sword didn’t even slow down, with a crash the man’s shield collapsed as though made of bark, there was a quick crack as the man’s arm broke, a sickening slush as the sword passed through armor and flesh, and even then the sword didn’t stop. It continued down, crushing bone, armor, and flesh, splattering blood across the ground, across Jaden.
Jaden smiled, licking blood off of his lips, and bringing his sword back to the ready position, listening as the man and his horse crashed to the ground in a heap of blood and tangled limbs.
That was what he lived for.

Quester

The Ruins of Arluine, Eastern Caraca, Netheron.
Tauren stared about the room almost in a trance, the voice of the dead king ringing in his ears. He was committed, committed to an oath.
Detrick stared at him, his mouth open, amazement written across his face” Tauren?” He asked after a moment.
Tauren gulped.” I think I just got mixed up in some oath.”
Detrick shook his head in amazement.” You think!”
Tauren frowned.” What exactly did I promise?”
Detrick stared at him for a few more moments.” You just swore fealty some age old dead king’s voice! You idiot! Why on earth did you do that?”
“Because he had no choice”
Tauren and Detrick spun around at the sound of the deep voice and found themselves facing a tall, dark haired warrior in shining armor, a sword at his side, a green cloak about his shoulders. Their weapons where out in an instant, but Tauren quickly noticed that the man’s own weapon was still in its sheath.
“Who are you?” Detrick asked suspiciously.
The man regarded them carefully, his hard brown eyes searching them. Tauren found himself staring back into those eyes, mesmerized, they seemed to be drawing him in, asking him for his secrets, inviting him to come closer, to delve deeper into –
He held his sword up higher and tensed himself, concentrating. These ruins where anything but natural, they were filled with an ancient magic, and the last thing he wanted to do as a last action was be killed without a fight.
The man smiled softly and bowed low to them.” Welcome travelers! I am Jacob, Jacob Eterion. Lord of Vash Hazar. Who might you be to delve so deep into these sacred ruins?”
Tauren glanced at Detrick from the corner of his eye and slowly returned his sword to its sheath.” Honored to meet you . . . Lord Eterion! My name is Tauren Netharu. This is Detrick Averone . . . we were attacked by Halavardes and we ran in here . . . “He stopped, not sure if he should say any more.
“And where caught by old Arlons trap” Finished Jacob, he smiled.” Don’t worry, you can trust me. I come from Jaden Clasheron, to whom you’re bringing your . . . task.”
Detrick glanced at Tauren, not understanding.
Suddenly the small parcel in his pocket felt very heavy.
Tauren took a deep breath, and decided if this man hadn’t decided to kill them yet he probably wasn’t.” What do you want?”
Jacob sighed and looked sad.” I’m here to explain.”
“Explain what” Interjected Detrick, his hand still on his axe haft.
“Everything” Jacob answered, raising his hands.
“Don’t trust him Tauren” Warned Detrick, raising the axe slightly.
Jacob smiled thinly at Tauren and he came to a decision.” I think we can.” Then he turned back to the tall warrior “.Why don’t you start with what I just swore?” Tauren asked.
Jacob nodded, and smiled thinly, his hard face looking slightly less intimidating for a moment.” You just swore fealty to the Throne of Netheron. You see, thousands of years ago, when Our Lord created Netheron, Arreland, Halavarde and the other worlds; he made an experiment. He made it so that our worlds where not like other worlds. Each world had to have a king.