Leo rose from a bed of furs thick enough to swallow a man whole. Animal skins layered one atop another served as sheets, their weight warm against his legs. As he lifted his head from the feather pillow, unfamiliarity pressed against his thoughts like a hand against a door.
The room was rather unusual.
The light through the shuttered window fell in unfamiliar angles. The air carried smoke and resin instead of the stale scent of his own quarters.
Outside the wind continued battering stone instead of rattling glass panes.
Leo sat still for a long moment, his breath slow.
He remembered feeling cold within an infinite darkness closing in at the edges of his vision, as well as the certain knowledge that his time among the living had come to a close.
Yet here he was alive and well
A girl entered before he could rise further, The lass had blonde hair that fell past her shoulders and a set of bronze bangles circled both her wrists. Her ornaments twinkled under the firelight as she moved.
Her face lit when she saw him awake.
"Vlad….you are up already."
Leo did not react abruptly, especially at such a critical juncture.
The name meant nothing to him and his own face felt alien, But the girl's expression held a sense of familiarity and relief.
She clearly knew him… Or rather, she knew the body he now occupied.
Leo touched his temple and let his brow crease.
"My mind is thick as fog," he said slowly. "I barely remember—"
The girl crossed the room in quick steps, her bangles chiming softly.
She knelt beside the bed with an expression of concern replacing joy. "Of course…. The wounds are still fresh… i should have realized." Her hand hovered near his shoulder and did not go further. "You have been asleep for two days. The fever broke only yesterday."
'My wounds….' Leo glanced down at himself for the first time finding layers of linen wrapping his torso and stained faintly at the edges with dried salve.
More bandages were bound near his left thigh and circled his right arm below the elbow, but he felt no pain or throbs from injury only a strange distance from the flesh he wore.
"You must rest," the girl urged. "I will fetch broth—"
"Sit with me first."
She hesitated, then settled onto the edge of the bed.
The firelight caught her eyes shining with a green flint and worried set of brows.
"I am Ruth," she offered quietly.
"Am one of the few still fine with serving under you, have you forgotten everything?"
Leo shook his head.
Ruth's expression flickered, but she nodded as if she had expected this. "The healer said there might be lapses in your memory."
"Evidently part of the mind fights to survive and often sheds what it cannot fathom"
'She has a bit of wit and cunning ,' Leo thought. 'Good.'
He let silence stretch, then asked the questions that mattered.
"Where am I?"
"Everglade, it is your uncle's hold."
"What happened to me?"
Ruth's hands tightened in her lap, "Bandits am afraid, You raised a company to stop them raiding the granaries." She paused. The fight went badly." "Most of your men did not come back."
Leo absorbed this info regarding his failed battle and a number of dead followers, whose bodies were broken apart and discarded by the wayside.
"And what of my family?"
Ruth's gaze dropped. "Your father sent you here to your uncle Arvid. He said….." She stopped.
"Say it."
"He said you brought shame enough for one lifetime and if you wished to die like a fool, you would do it where his table did not have to look at you."
The words hung in the air.
Leo felt nothing as these people were not truly his kin, None of their blood ties meant anything to him.
But the body he possessed felt dismay.
He swung his legs toward the edge of the bed.
Ruth rose quickly. "You cannot—"
"I need to see my uncle."
"He will not receive you, especially like this."
"Then I will make him do so."
Ruth studied him for moment.
The worry in her eyes deepened, but beneath it something else stirred. She reached for a wool cloak from the chest near the hearth and helped him stand. Her arm braced his waist as he found his footing. The fur mantle settled across his shoulders, heavy and warm.
The fire crackled low behind them.
Embers shifted as scattering sparks clattered against the stone.
"You should not be walking," Ruth murmured, fastening the clasp at his throat.
Her fingers lingered on his collar, appearing to be uncertain.
Leo straightened his posture regardless. The bandages pulled, but no pain followed. Only a faint tightness when he drew breath too deep. "I have rested enough," he said. "Where is he?"
Ruth held his gaze a moment longer, then nodded.
She led him to the chamber door were a corridor ran long and cold, built from pale stone blocks fitted with care. Torches burned in iron brackets, their light throwing shadows across mounted shields and antlered skulls.
Servants passed in hushed steps.
Each paused when they saw him upright bowing their heads before leaving.
Word had already spread.
The disgraced son had not died, he was even descending a curved stairway.
Ruth and Leo's steps echoed incessantly.
~thud... thud... thud~
Faint clashes could be heard through the hollow core of the tower, where a ring of metal had been erected below.
~Clang!~
~Clang!~
Ruth winced. "Your cousins train every morning."
Leo said nothing.
They reached the training courtyard as two young men broke from a sparring bout.
One carried a broad axe and the other a round shield and short sword, both set of breaths steamed in the cold.
Snow fell in loose spirals, dusting their firm shoulders.
The axe-wielder noticed them first, "Are the gods deceiving me…" he called out, lowering his weapon. "The corpse walks."
Heads turned.
Warriors lining the courtyard walls shifted stances and muttered, Leo stared and easily recognized the speaker from Ruth's earlier words.
Edrik was uncle Arvid's eldest son.
The lad was taller than him by a head, while thick black braids tied behind his neck, while a vicious pair of scars ran along his chin like deliberate ink.
"I expected the crows to finish you," Edrik added before planting his axe in the snow.
Laughter rippled through the onlookers.
Ruth stepped forward. "He only just rose this morning…."
"I am not that pathetic ," Leo interrupted.
His voice carried confidence and the result was evident, as the courtyard quieted.
Edrik pulled the axe from the snow and tossed it to a rack, "Good to hear… Perhaps you remember how to handle yourself." Before Ruth could interject, Edrik grabbed a wooden practice sword and flung it toward Leo.
The blunted blade spun end over end through the cold air.
Leo lifted his arm and caught it.
The impact smacked against his palm, a stinging sensation lingered for a moment. He closed his fingers around the grip, while a murmur passed through the gathered men.
"Edrik," Ruth whispered. "He was barely breathing yesterday."
Edrik ignored her and rolled his shoulder and stepped forward with heavy steps, selecting a second practice blade from the rack.
"One touch," he said. "Let us see if exile taught you anything."
Leo lowered into a stance.
Snow crunched beneath his boots as he adjusted his footing, watching the stance of his opponent.
Edrik struck first.
The wooden blade arced down in a diagonal cut.
~Thwack!~
Leo stepped aside rather than block.
Opting the strike to graze his outer coat and crashing into the snow where he had stood, spraying white powder across his legs.
Edrik's left brow rose slightly.
In one motion the gallant warrior pivoted and drove a second strike toward Leo's ribs, but this time Leo was able to raise his blade.
~Crack!~
Wood met wood.
The force traveled up Leo's arm, but he held fast.
Instead of retreating and losing the initiative he stepped forward, bracing his shoulder before lunging into Edrik's chest.
Edrik stumbled back half a step, while the courtyard stirred.
Leo did not pursue him further and took two paces back, forcing space between them. 'Not getting brash?' Edrik's expression shifted as the disdain from earlier had thinned.
"Again," he muttered, and lunged.
Leo dropped low. Snow sprayed around his boots as he swung upward, the wooden sword grazing Edrik's side before the larger man twisted away. Edrik retaliated with a sweeping kick.
The blow caught Leo's thigh.
He slid across the snow, feet carving furrows, until he jammed the practice blade into the ground to stop.
~Scrrrch.~
The watching warriors leaned forward.
Some merely nodded and others stood tall with smirks on their faces. Edrik fiercely advanced, raising his sword for a downward blow.
Leo was competent enough to move first, quickly closing the distance instead of waiting around. He sidestepped just within Edrik's reach and drove his elbow toward the man's midsection.
~Thud!~
Misty air burst from Edrik's lungs.
Before he could recover, Leo hooked his ankle behind Edrik's leg and twisted. The larger fellow toppled backward into the snow stirring a reaction from onlookers.
~Whump!~
A cloud of white erupted around him, while the ambiance of the courtyard fell still. Edrik lay staring at the grey sky with a heaving chest.
Slowly, he began to laugh. "Not bad for a prodigal son…" Edrik said between breaths.
He rolled onto one knee and stood, brushing snow from his furs. Ruth exhaled feeling relieved about the result, as a weight on her mind vanished the maiden's posture relaxed.
Leo lowered the practice sword, "I did not come to duel for mere sport…" he said evenly and handed it back without any ceremony "I need to see my uncle."
Edrik studied him for a moment as any frivolity had faded from his demeanor, utterly replaced by something devoid of incompetence.
"Father is in the east hall," he replied at last. "Do not waste anymore time here…"
Leo inclined his head and turned. As he walked from the courtyard, wind blew snow across the stone walls brushing against banners.
A majority of them bore the Salver crest.
He felt the gazes at his back, unlike before they could not dismiss his presence. Ruth walked beside him in silence for several steps before before uttering a word, "You fought rather well."
The young man kept his eyes forward. "This was one bout that I could not afford to lose."
Within the depths of Leo's mind his thoughts were clear, 'Strength alone will not secure a provident life. Men of this domain measure worth by conquest, thus I will give them something they cannot grasp with hands.'
The east hall doors stood tall, bound with iron bands.
Two guards pushed them open upon recognizing him.
~Creeeak.~
Warmth flooded out, lingering with pine smoke and burning resin. At the far end of the chamber, seated at a long table strewn with maps and sealed letters, sat a broad-shouldered man with grey braids at his temples.
Arvid Salver.