Daybreak arrived and Bashir awoke to the sound of a rooster just outside the window of Ahkmed's home. He rubbed his eyes when he got out of his bed, put on the armor that had been laid out for him the previous evening, and proceeded downstairs to meet with Ari, who was already gathering the others to prepare to march over the Rhydian Pass.
"Good morning, Your Majesty," Ari bowed when Bashir approached, his arms clasped behind his back. "A beautiful day for revenge, isn't it?" he replied idly, observing the red tinge in the morning sky. "A bloody sky in the morning bodes well for those who ride on the path to glory and honor," Ari said with a smile.
"That must be something you warriors say amongst yourselves, for I have never heard of such a thing," Bashir chuckled. "Perhaps, but that doesn't make it any less true, Your Majesty. Although many of our soldiers have probably forgotten all about it, since it's been over a decade since our last battle," Ari scoffed lightly.
"I see. Well, that is not always a bad thing, is it? Many families have been spared the loss of loved ones, I'm sure," Bashir said, patting Ari on his shoulder. "Indeed they have, Your Majesty. Bring our king his horse!" Ari shouted behind him, while Bashir gazed out over the three thousand battle-ready men under the red sky.
"You were right, Ari. I had forgotten how a large army can make a man tremble excitedly," he said breathlessly. "Unfortunately, this was all I could summon on such short notice, but I'm glad they still make you feel that way, Your Majesty," Ari joined him to look out over the army.
One of the soldiers brought Bashir's horse, with a fine, leather saddle, and a white and violet sash tied to its side. "Your horse, Your Majesty," the soldier bowed, handing the reins to Bashir. "Where is Hatal? The one that brought me here, where is he?" he asked, looking around the general to see if he was still in the stables. "You do not want your horse?" Ari asked, genuinely confused.
"Hatal might be tired from the harrowing journey here, but he's a hero nonetheless. Do I need to repeat myself, or have you simply forgotten the value of a hero?" Bashir raised an eyebrow, prompting Ari to quickly follow his order without further question.
Moments later, Hatal was brought out from the stables, his new saddle fit perfectly. Bashir noticed the horse trotted happily, as if giddy with excitement.
I've always wondered whether they felt emotions as we do. I guess that answers my question, he thought, smiling as he watched Hatal stamp his feet on the ground happily.
"He looks like one of the horses from the tales of old, my lord," Ari said, smiling as he watched the horse's trot. "He really is a fine horse indeed," Bashir replied, taking the reins from the soldier who walked him, patting Hatal's strong neck.
He placed his foot in the stirrup and swung his right leg over to the other side. After adjusting his riding position, he looked out over the sea of men who did the same as he did. "Men, we ride to Coltend! May our forefathers bear witness!" he shouted, and there was a roar in response.
Bashir stuck his heels into Hatal's sides and led his men to the foot of the Rhydian mountains. On the way up the trail, he recalled the flight he had made, and could swear he saw a few of Hatal's large hoof prints in the dirt beneath him.
I fled for my life in fear of being hunted down and slaughtered like my son. Now I am no longer the hunted, but the hunter, he thought.
The sun was now stronger on their backs than it had been when they began their march as they reached the top of the Pass. "This sun will be to our advantage. It will blind them, making them easy targets for our archers, avoiding the bloodshed of our own men, Your Majesty," he continued.
"Do not forget about the elven rebels, Ari. They might not be as welcoming as we hope they are," Bashir cautioned, getting a nod of understanding from the general. They reached the top of the Pass and turned the corner only to find a small camp placed in the middle of the way, a short distance from the body of an ice troll, with a foul stench ruling the air.
Bashir and Ari cast their eyes on the beast, and noticed the pile of stripped bodies - some of them missing limbs, while others were little more than mounds of rotting flesh. "That ice troll must have been the cause of that," Bashir said to Ari, who was still observing the ice troll's dead body. "The elves must be watching the encampment. It would be best not to get too close, Your Majesty," Ari said as Bashir dismounted his horse and walked over to the troll's body.
He noticed the point of an arrow sticking out of the beast's skull. He broke it off from its shaft and wiped the rotting brain matter off of it. "It's of elvish make," he said, showing it to Ari, who looked around him, hoping to see one of them. "In the name of King Bashir Ibn'Escea of Harut, come forth," Ari shouted.
A man from the camp came out from one of the small tents pitched on the far end of the pass. "That's him," Bashir said, pointing to Gorm, still in full gear. "Have you returned to die like a dog to its vomit?" Gorm shouted.
"Do not speak to the king in that tone," Ari shouted back. Gorm turned his head to Ari, who was still on his horse. "And who might you be to command me in that tone of voice? His personal, pox-ridden bitch? You don't scare me, boy," Gorm retorted angrily.
"I am Ari Vast, Commanding General of the Harutian Royal Guard, loyal servant of our great king," Ari replied. "Well, that's a fancy name and title for little more than a boot-licker," Gorm shouted back. "How dare you?" Ari snarled.
"Ari, until we have a location on the elves, do not attack, understand?" Bashir said quietly, making Ari sigh deeply. "Very well, but he will pay for what he said," he said, glaring at Gorm. "All in good time," Bashir replied.
"Gorm, was it?" he turned to face the captain. "That's the name I was given at birth, so yes," Gorm replied. "Gorm of what, might I ask?" he smiled, trying to maintain a semblance of diplomacy. "Just Gorm," the man replied curtly. "Such disrespect for a king. Did your parents not educate you at all? Gods, for all I know, your name was probably written in the remains of a cocksneeze that dripped off your mother's face," Ari shouted, growing increasingly enraged at the man's disrespect for his king.
Gorm furrowed his brow and bared his teeth like he was ready for a good fight.
"Silence, Ari! Compose yourself," Bashir snapped, making the man flinch. Ari was about to protest, but he waved him off as he began to walk toward the Coltendian captain, who responded by doing the same.
"There are elves all around us," Bashir gestured to the rocks that lined the Pass. "I know. They ambushed us just after we had arrived at the top of the Pass, and killed a few of my men. Then came that monstrosity you see lying before you, lifeless and numb to all things save decay," Gorm replied as Bashir looked down at the ice troll, admiring its crystalline armor.