Undying Blood - Beta - Chapter 020 -

Running on auto mode, Francis repeated everything to the same perfection as the time before, earning some extra silver, punching a bully he hated and managing to secure a chain helm after learning what not to say to the same armorsmith.

None of it seemed important anymore as he considered all the things he had learned and knew what would come next.

“You seem totally not interested in that meat.  You sure you’re not sick?”

Nodding, Francis smiled at Michael and considered how things had played out last time.

“I’m not… just…” Pausing, he glanced at the others near them, the tavern filled with noise and laughter as people talked about the day and a few even mentioned the race he had won again. “After we eat, we need to talk.”

Frowning, his brother shook his head once before sighing and digging his fork into a piece of meat on the plate. 

“I’m telling you, if you get me sick I’m going to punch you in the face.”

***

Sitting on the beds that were cramped together, Michael’s face didn’t show any expression at all.

“You’re telling me that when we arrive at the camp in a few days, you’re going to get us a pass to the good side, put me up in a tent, feed me real food and keep me from fighting?”

Nodding, he waited for what he knew had to come next.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I–”

“Seriously, you say you’re not sick, but that’s the dumbest fairytale shit I’ve heard you ever say since we were kids and you wanted to join a circus, promising me we would be rich and famous.”

Michael turned and laid down on the cheap blanket and sighed.

“There’s not a chance in the worlds the gods will ever show us that much love and unless you’ve managed to keep a treasure hidden from me all these years while we starved, I’m going to call bullshit.”

“So if it happens, then what?”

Groaning, Michael rubbed his eyes.

“I don’t have time for this… we’re about to go to war… war Francis! We’re going to die and you and I both know it.  I’m glad you got a nice helm, but perhaps you should have been wearing it since getting it because someone surely hit you in your noggin.”

“We’ll see,” Francis replied. 

“Yeah… and I’m suddenly going to grow wings and learn to shoot fireballs from my ass.”

Chuckling, he rolled over and ignored his older brother, knowing that eventually he would find a way to not have to deal with this everytime.

I’m going to die a lot more times before I get strong enough.

***

Both guards stood there, blinking in confusion and surprise yet neither moved, unable to react to what they had just heard.

“I’m serious. Dirk you know that Vella is mad at you, her father, General Stenson only has one arm and when we get there, she’s going to make you get Nehemiah to verify everything I’ve said.  Now unless you want me to repeat myself a third time, feel free. But I can tell you right now, I’m the guy you want on your side, no I won’t answer any other questions, and perhaps if you’re lucky I’ll make sure she takes you off this duty and let you work Douglas’s cush job.”

Coughing, the older man shook his head, those blue eyes of his studying how Francis stood there, looking like someone who had the authority the boy claimed.

“Fine.. let’s go but just know that if you’re wrong–”

“You’ll beat me and I’ll die in a horrible death. Don’t worry though, Peter can hold down this spot till someone joins him.”

Grunting at being caught off, Dirk turned at the other guard who was shaking his head and shrugging.

“This is so going to be one of those nights,” muttered the older guard.

***

Vella’s eyes studied him, her face bunched up as she bit her lip.

No one said a word, all waiting for Nehemiah and when the older man was tossed into the and his curse came forth the woman’s face drained of all color.

“I swear I’m going to cut her balls off!” 

“Shit… someone go get my father. Now!”

One of the advisors who had been standing nearby broke from the tent in a run and it took great effort for Francis not to chuckle.

“Who the hell is this boy and why they heck do you look like you’ve seen a spirit? Or perhaps you caught sight of my manhood and realized what you’ve been missing out on?”

Once more the older man moved quickly, lifting up his shirt that he was dressed in.

“And who the hell is this pissant? Why does he–”

“If you don’t shut your mouth Nehemiah, I swear I will stick a cloth in it until my father gets here.”

Snapping his jaw closed, the glare he gave the captain did nothing to cool the building tension between the two.

“I need you to hold my hand and verify I’m a sage,” Francis said as he moved to the older man. “And stop standing there with your mouth open. We’ll get you clothes, we can talk about Ginge later, and I’m tired of all this bullshit as well.”

“What?!”

Sticking his hand out closer, Francis sighed. 

“Just verify it… now.”

Caught off guard by his demeanor and command, the half-dressed, bald-headed man grabbed it, frowning as he did. Closing his eyes, he continued to complain.

“Wasting my time for this bu–”

The trickle of energy flowed through Francis and the cold sensation of being dunked in a pool came again.

Both eyelids were as far apart as possible, and the choking sound as Nehemiah struggled to make words filled the tent.

“It’s… how… this boy! Where did you find him?!”

“He strode in here like the king himself, and everything he has said has been absolutely correct,” Vella replied. “I’m assuming by your reaction his claim to be a sage is true?”

Nodding, Nehemiah said nothing, eyes locked on Francis.

“Can I have my hand back, please?”

Glancing at the grip he still had, all the older fingers moved so fast it was as if they had been blown off.

“Impossible… a sage… at his age.” 

A frown came over him and then his eyes narrowed.

“What did he say?”

“Just that if we don’t change our plan of attack for tomorrow, we’ll lose all of our troops besides the veterans and the cavalry. He spoke about all of our tactics and even mentioned the spells that we have as well as details no one but someone with the gift he claims to have could know.”

“But a sage… at his age… and that–”

The tent flap flew open and the general strode in, flanked by two guards and the advisor who had fetched him.

Unlike the older man, he had clothes on, a fine suit of armor that wasn’t his battle one, but the same sword as always was on his hip.

“Vella, what is wrong?”

His tone carried the displeasure of whatever had taken place, being pulled away and his eyes swept the room, seeing Francis and the half naked man everyone knew had a single talent.

“This boy is a sage, it has been verified and he has knowledge to share that will change how we must attack tomorrow or we will lose over forty thousand troops.”

Snapping his fingers caused his escort to halt and the general moved to where Francis stood, not flinching, a slight smirk on his face.

“General Stenson. Pleasure to meet you. Tell me does your sword have an ability which causes the red blade to send out a cutting wind or is it a skill you possess?”

Coughs and gasps rang out through the tent and the one armed man’s hand snaked out faster than Francis could see, grabbing his outfit and lifting him off the ground as if he was a feather.

Air wasn’t easy to keep flowing as he dangled there, eyes just a few inches from Stenson’s face as he glared at him, concern displayed as his brows became one.

“Do you have any idea–”

“He is a sage father! With the sight to see in the future he claims! You need to–”

“Do not tell me what to do! You know how many know of my sword and yet this boy acts like the whole camp should be aware of it!”

Choking and holding the hand that gripped him, trying to keep himself in a position and able to breath, Francis fought for the ability to speak.

“Forgive me General. I wanted your attention and to… prove I know what I claim…”

Gravity took over and falling to the ground, Francis stumbled as the one responsible for so many parts of this battle snapped his fingers.

“Everyone but Vella and this boy, out!”

“I’m not going anywhere!” Nehemiah shouted. “You can’t–”

Stopping himself and the look that he was on the receiving end, the tester of abilities held up a hand.

“Forgive me. I shall go but know I am headed straight to the king!”

“Make sure to put on some pants first,” Francis said as he rubbed his throat. “And when he is on his throne, he’ll know you speak the truth.”

A few more gasps came and after one more snap of his fingers, the tent cleared in a seconds.

No one said a word as Francis tried to decide if this path had been the right one.  

So much for coming in here wagging my skill like that… perhaps that was a bit too much, but at least we should be able to skip all the other stuff.

“Who are you?”

“Francis Mudaburg.  Ninth son to Barron Mudaburg.”

A chuckle came from Vella and it stopped when her father glared at her.

“A ninth son… a sage.”

“Not usually something most believe, but then again, I’m certain you never were a fan of the that archaic way of thinking.  Kind of like how important it is to know how to use a pen as well as a sword?”

For once the older man went silent and the laughter that came from Vella carried across the tent.

“Oh my gosh! The look on your face! Francis, I owe you a drink for that one!”

Her outburst made Stenson close his jaw, realizing it had been open after his daughter had mocked him.

“You seem very familiar with things that most should never know.  Tell me… Ninth son of Barron Mudaburg… why are you here?”

“I’ve come to help our kingdom live to fight another day and share what the gods have shown me.  My gift doesn’t happen often but when it does, I know for certain things will go a way if we do not change the course.  If you do not change up how you attack tomorrow, and you do not hold off on using that healing spell as you have the last two months, the enemy will unleash a power you have not seen yet and it will consume the entire army except for your veteran warriors and the cavalry.”

Motioning to the table with all the troops, he continued.

“I got here today.  For the last few months I have been training under an asshole named Phillip who has made my life and my brothers life miserable.  I won’t lie, I could have ran but I needed to be here.  In the woods is a caster, a lizard one that is black and purple who will attack tomorrow, casting a fear spell on the left side of the army.  It will cause chaos and confusion, resulting in the death of many men.  The king will attempt to sway their minds, driving out the fear, but enough will die it will cause problems.”

“You’re certain?”

Nodding, he moved to where the table was, going slowly as he picked up an unmarked token and stood near the section he knew it would be located.

“Right here is where the caster can be found. It will start using its ability about the time the sixth and seventh line of fodder is fighting.”

“And the rest?” Stenson asked. “What about the spells?”

“That is a much longer discussion, but I’m afraid it’s going to have to wait.  Nehemiah is going to have reached the king and there will be a summon soon.  I’ll be forced to changed, endure women trying to get me to sleep with them, and finally be presented to the king. If you wouldn’t mind, could someone fetch my brother and bring him here?  Obviously, if I’m lying we’ll both die, but I would prefer to have him close as he is the only family I have.”

“What son is he?” Vella asked.

“The eighth.”

Chuckling, she shook her head and looked at her father, waiting for instructions.

Scratching his chin, Stenson frowned and then a bit of a weight he had been carried appeared to have been lifted. 

“Tell me, Francis, is there anything else you have seen?”

“Some… the world right now is hazy but there is something you’ll want to know for certain.  Right now though, I’m really hungry and want my brother.  After that, I’ll tell you about the elite beastkin on the other side.”

A loud whistle rang out, the general never needing to use his fingers to do it.

Both of the men who had escorted him were inside in a moment.

“Yes sir?”

“Fetch this boys brother.  I am going to take him to my tent. Someone will no doubt be by to clothe him before the king summons him. I want this done now.”

One nodded and looked at Francis.

“Oh, right. He’s right here,” he replied, pointing to the spot on the map.  Michael Mudaburg. In the section led by Phillip of the new recruits. Seventh line in the reinforcements.”

Without delay, the escort was gone.

“I guess we shall move to my tent then. Vella, are you going to stay or come?”

Laughing, she shook her head and moved toward the tent flap.

“You couldn’t pay me enough to stay away from this.”