I had the idea of rendering a scene in Earthfire, the first of my Dragonhost Saga tetralogy, in the style of a story-teller. So...
SIR LAZAR AND THE VEELA'S SON
On a day one month before the crowning of King Vaslav, First of His Name, a Free Company accepted two new recruits into its ranks. One was a veteran crossbowman, and the other a young archer, and they were sworn brothers, by their own words.
The young archer, who gave his name as Yastreb, drew attention from his new comrades, for he was a beardless boy, though skilled with the bow, and his manners were almost those of one of gentle blood. Too, he bore a longbow of black yew, like those of the archers of Caillor, and on his belt he wore a good sword. And on his cheek was a large and livid scar, a sure sign of combat faced and survived. Was he truly of humble birth, cast out into the world to make his own way and befriended by the old warrior, as he said? So his comrades wondered.
Others in the company, especially among the spearmen, wove their own fancies about Yastreb, and some came to believe that he was in fact a woman who, disfigured and shunned, had decided to take the warrior's path. Still others said that he was more likely the illegitimate son of a noble family, unrecognised yet not wholly spurned, as his good accoutrements and attentive guardian testified.
But in time the truth became known, and whispered from one to another. that Yastreb was indeed the illegitimate son of a noble, but more than that; his mother was a Veela. They pointed to his lack of a beard, and the bow that he bore, for were such bows not the favoured weapons of the Veelas everywhere?
And so it was that the Free Company took its rest in a village to drill and buy provisions, and into that village rode Sir Lazar Azurok and his retinue.
Now Sir Lazar was a vassal of Baron Urosh Dulbrenok, a knight of little wealth who sought deeds of arms that might bring him honourable advancement, and he was making his way to his Lord in expectation of imminent war, as many believed that Sir Drago Voyinok would soon make war on Duke Vukor Branvok and the Ownership.
But on this day Sir Lazar was seeking diversion, and his eyes lit upon a young maiden of the village, and he commanded his men-at-arms to bring the maiden to him at the inn. At this a village youth rushed to defend the maiden, for he was her swain, but a warrior struck him senseless, and Sir Lazar said to his sergeant, "Kill that one!"
And in the next moment, before a blow could be struck, the youth Yastreb stepped forth, arrow notched and bow drawn to ear, and cried out, "If he dies, then you die also!"
Sir Lazar was astonished, and shouted wrathfully, "Know you who you would threaten, varlet?"
But Yastreb cried out again, "If he dies, then you die also!" and Sir Lazar cursed his fate and told his men-at-arms to stand back as the maiden and her sweetheart fled.
Now at this Sir Lazar spoke in wrath, "I am Sir Lazar Azurok, and I do not wish to hear your name! How brave you are, with all your comrades at your back! Let us meet in challenge between staves, and no quarter asked or granted!"
There are those who wonder if Sir Lazar knew Yastreb's origins, for as all know, it is the custom for one of gentle blood and coat-armour to only issue such a challenge to one of his own class. Others believe that he simply wished to dishonour the youth with a slow and lingering death in such a combat, and there is reason to believe this, as you will see.
Yastreb accepted the challenge, and the staves were placed.
Sir Lazar and Yastreb came to handstrokes, and it was soon plain to all that Sir Lazar outmatched Yastreb in skill. In just moments Sir Lazar struck Yastreb three times, wounding him in the thigh, the shoulder and the chest, and deflected Yastreb's attacks with ease. Indeed, it was as if the knight was toying with his opponent, as a cat plays with a mouse.
Then Sir Lazar swung hard, as if to cleave Yastreb in twain, and the blow did not land, but the youth's sword was shivered and he received a wound to the head that left him lying in the dust. He managed to rise and draw out his dagger, to meet his fate with weapon in hand.
At that, Sir Lazar shouted, "His blood is mine!" and stepped forward, whether to continue the slow shaming or deliver the killing blow no-one can say.
For in that moment, the Veela blood in Yastreb's veins boiled in wrath.
To the astonishment of all, he struck with the dagger, with blinding speed, and sent the blade into Sir Lazar's heart.
And Sir Lazar fell slain, and Yastreb knelt weeping by his corpse.
Sir Lazar's men-at-arms took away his corpse, and the Free Company remained, but the Captain realised that with their duty taking them through Baron Dulbrenok's lands, it would not be safe for Yastreb to remain with them. Told of this, Yastreb's companion said, "Where he goes, I go. My oaths to him come before all others."
And when the Free Company had marched away, the maiden came to Yastreb, to bless him in the name of The Saviours. He did not speak, but bowed to her, in all humility, and with his companion walked from the village.
And whither they went, no-one can say.
So ends this tale, as all things end.