Chapter I - Prologue
The buzz of the town’s market was so annoying that even the regulars of the place found it unbearable. The combination of noise, dust, midday heat and dozen different odors was making everyone extremely tense. The vendors, shouting the quality of their products, were almost ready to jump from behind their stands and force the potential customers to buy from them. The customers, in their turn, endlessly negotiating for a better price, were making matters even worse, while here and there, a thief was greedily “mining”, in the depths of the pockets of their clueless victims. One or two beggars, shamelessly displaying their freakish handicaps were appealing to the generosity of the by passers. On top of all, the noise and smell coming from the live animal market were completing this repulsive setting.
Through this crowd, a barefoot boy, agilely running between the stands, made everyone turn their heads. Jumping on a trade cart or climbing a pyramid of barrels, the boy was trying to evade two rough looking guards following him. The rusty guards were no match for the child’s agility, but when turning his dark-haired head to see where his pursuers were, the boy was suddenly struck by the fat arm of a butcher. Before he could get up the guards reached him and took him from under his armpits.
“You rascal, you’re the one who stealed from my meat stand last week!” said the fat butcher, looking angrily at the young boy.
“Leave him alone, we’re going to give this cad a lesson.” said one of the guards.
“What about my meat stand?” asked the butcher, wiping his hands on his white apron, stained with blood.
“Go to his father, maybe he’ll pay you.” said the other guard.
“Only if he has any dime left, after giving them all to pay for this little wretch thefts and vandalisms.” completed the first guard with an amused tone in his voice.
“Where’s that thief?” asked with an imposing voice, a well dressed men, while making his way through the streets of the market.
“He’s here, my Lord Steward. We’ve got him.” replied with humility one of the guards.
“There you are …” said Barnus, the Steward of the city, while searching the boy and taking a fat bag, which probably initially belonged to the Steward, from the child. The steward tactfully, placed the bag, back at his belt.
“What should we do with the boy, sir?” asked one of the guards.
“Give me your sword!” said the Steward without hesitation.
The two guards looked for a moment scared at each other, before Barnus shouted again. “Give me your damned sword!” and the younger guard complied.
The steward, showing his crooked teeth in an evil grin took the sword and pretended to try to stab the boy, who, scared, started crying. “Don’t kill me, sir, don’t kill me please! I’m sorry!” Meanwhile the crowd gathered witnessed shocked the scene, but no one dared to intervene.
The steward started laughing arrogantly. “Not so brave now, are you? Where’s your band, of little outlaws now, eh?” asked Barnus still holding the sword towards the boy.
“Take him to the prison.” said the steward before hitting the boy in his head with the sword’s handle, causing him to black out.
***
The sound of the rusty keys moving in the lock woke, the unconscious boy from his dreams. The door of the prison cell opened making an irritating scratching noise and a middle age man, wearing the same equipment as the guards who caught the troublesome boy earlier entered the small cell. His dark eyes, though, were not as fierce as the eyes of the other guards, emanating a combination of kindness and pity. As he moved his large body through the prison cell the boy, rising up from the cold floor exclaimed:
“Father !”
*“Decebalus, my son.” said the father embracing his only son, before bursting into tears.
“Why are you crying, father ?” asked the young Decebalus. “Come on let’s get out of here.” continued the boy, used to always be released from prison by his father.
“I can’t save you this time, the Lord Steward complained to the Prince about you.”
“Why? For stealing a couple of coins from him? Please father, you’re the Prince’s guard, can’t you get me out of here.”
“I did got you out of here son. The Lord Steward wanted to cut your hands off, but I begged the Prince to show mercy and he accepted.”
“So if he accepted why can’t I leave this place?”
“The Prince told me I can’t control you, my son. And at the Lord Chancellor suggestion, he decided to take you as his squire. They believe you have great potential for becoming a knight. Even the marshal said he was impressed by the leadership you showed in leading your little gang of thieves.”
“But father, I don’t want to be the Prince’s lackey. Can’t you get me out of this? Please father, I want to come home to you and mom. I promise, I won’t live on the streets anymore.”
“I can’t Decebalus, it has been decided already. It hurts me a lot but I can’t do anything. But it’s a good life after all, and you won’t be on the streets anymore. I think the Prince was right when he said I couldn’t control you. I’m always in his service and you never listened to your mother. Your only 14 years old Decebalus, maybe in a few years you’ll be a good loyal soldier, this could be good for you.”
Two guards entered the cell saying that they have to take the boy. The father said goodbye, trying to leave the cell, but Decebalus clinged tighter to his father, large tears starting to pour from his eyes. “Don’t leave with them father, don’t leave me.” cried the boy but the father, with his heart broken, got out of the tight embrace of his son leaving the cell. The two guards took the boy by his armpits, in the same manner as earlier and dragged him out.
***
After seven years of hard training and service, Decebalus had enough of it. All this time his humble origins made him the target of bullying by the noble boys training with him, and even though he was by far the best warrior, archer, rider or tactician, he never received any merits for it. Now his training was almost over and while all of his colleagues were being knighted one by one this prospect was not very likely for Decebalus. He could only hoped for a job in the Prince’s guard, just as his father. The old man had died 3 years ago receiving an arrow in his neck which was destined for the Prince, during a skirmish with some neighboring Baron. The only thing tying Decebalus to the Prince’s court was Aenta, the daughter of a small noble, but when the proud father refused to give his daughter to guardsman’s son, who was not even knighted, although being the oldest squire at the court, Decebalus decided to leave and search his fortune elsewhere. “I can’t be like my father, a loyal dog all my life, then have my only child taken from me and still die for some arrogant Prince.” thought Decebalus. He desperately wanted to make a name for himself, to be feared, respected and loved by others, to acquire money and power. Inspired by the stories he heard at court he wanted to fight, to conquer and to rule for himself. With these thoughts in his mind, Decebalus left the barracks one night, stole a horse, a sword, a shield, a crossbow and some bolts and boarded on a ship manned with tall, blonde headed men, speaking some strange Northern dialect he had never heard before, but which he understood, being similar with the language of the Namzat tribes, which his mother Dokia belonged from. Asking one of the sailors, where is the ship heading to, he received a hasty response. “Kaelred.” answered one sailor. Decebalus’ eyes glanced. Was this man talking about the distant lands of Calradia, of which he had heard so many stories about?
Mount and Blade AAR: The Decebaliad
Ordinarius
Originally Posted by Menelik_I
Civis
Rogue Bodemloze
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