The Prince And The Pagan

Chapter 2: Know Your Enemy

-Cole-

“Come on son, remember, know your enemy.”

My father threw the wooden training sword back at me, as I got up from the ground. He smiled at me, as he swung his own around looking like the winner he clearly was.

“Know your enemy … what does that even mean? You never explained that to me!” I said, defeated.

I was tired of losing. I always lost in our training sessions. I just wanted to win … just once.

“Well, what do you think it means?” he asked with a teasing smile.

“I don’t know, try to figure out what your opponent will do next?”

“Well, is he your opponent or enemy? There is a difference,” my father said.

“What difference? I am fighting him no matter what.”

“That is true,” he said. “But your enemy is someone not just trying to kill you but trying to destroy you. Trying to take away everything you care about. You need to find his weakness.”

“But you don’t have a weakness!” I said.

He just laughed at that and walked a little closer.

“We all have weaknesses,” he said. “Why it is important to know yours and theirs? Know your own to protect it and know theirs to win over them.”

“I always thought you said that once you know their weaknesses you can’t defeat them.”

“Not exactly, Cole,” he said and lowered his sword. “I said once you know them you can’t kill them.”

“Then how I am supposed to win?”

For some reason, my father got a dark look. While he enjoyed teaching me these things and he always told me and my sister stories before bed about all the things he had seen and done, I knew there were some things he kept secret. There were some stories he refused to tell.

“What does winning mean to you?” he asked after finally pulling himself out of his thoughts.

“It means … to win.”

“Yes, but how do you win? By killing your enemy or just defeating them. You can win a battle without ending their lives, you know.”

“Showing mercy?” I asked.

“Exactly.”

“But then they will just try to kill you. Why would you show them mercy if they want you dead?”

“Blood has a price. It always has,” he told me. “If you spill it, it will take a piece from you. Remember that, my son.”

He pointed at me with the sword before he held out his free hand.

“I think that is enough training for one day.”

I sighed and gave him my sword, which he took and walked over to a small wooden chest where he put it down with the rest of the training weapons. He always insisted on training me himself, even though I could just train with the other knights. He said there were some things that kings had to be taught that others didn’t. I was still not sure what, but he said I would learn with time. I had, after all, just turned twelve. I still had a long way to go to be as wise as him.

“Come,” he said. “Let us go find your mother and sister. They must be in town helping the sick.”

He walked towards the closed doors leading inside the big room we used for training, yet I stayed a little longer looking down at my feet. The wooden boards were covered in a lot of small dark spots from sweat and a little blood. He always talked about knowing your enemy … why? You just had to outsmart them to win over them. Why use your time to get to know them?

“Cole?”

I turned my head and saw my father waiting in the doorway. His grey eyes that my sister had gotten from him, study me with a worried look, so I quickly gathered myself and walked over to him. He smiled at me, as he placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Well done today, son,” he said.

He would always end our training in the same way by praising me, even though I didn’t feel like I had done a very good job.

I had no idea why this was the memory that popped into my head, as I had closed my eyes and prepared myself for the upcoming fight, just like he had taught me. It had taken me a day and a half to catch up to them, but I had finally found them. They were all sitting by a fire, their hoods down, so their face tattoos could be seen and their bald heads. They were all men, but I knew the pagans also had a lot of women who practiced the red magic.

I tightened my hand around my handle on my sword. They would pay, I promised myself, as I watched them from around a big oak tree. My heart was pounding in my chest, and my breathing was fast and heavy. I tried to be as quiet as I could, as I slowly started to move away from my hiding spot. I hadn’t gotten far, when one of them turned their head and saw me.

“For my father! The king!” I yelled.

I charged at them, as they were still seated, and tried to get to their weapons which they had laid just behind them. They scrambled over the ground and up on their feet, just as I reached the first one and cut him down. He let out a loud scream, just as another came towards me with an axe raised. Now there were only four …

I moved back, so he cut the air, and then I cut him over his back. He let out a small scream and fell to the ground, just as my sword met another. This one was bigger and stronger. He was able to push me back before swinging his sword at me. He almost cut me, but I was able to jump back before sending my own towards him. He was faster than I thought, and he met my blade with his own.

“Filthy pagan!” I yelled, just as I was able to push him back.

He stumbled backwards and was not able to gain his foothold, as I charged and ran him right through before letting him fall to the ground. I turned, ready to face the next one, but just as I came face to face with one of them, he blew black ash right in my face.

I sucked in a breath, as I slowly felt like I was being choked and my whole body felt paralyzed. I had no idea what this was, but I could not move. I could barely breathe. The two remaining ones smiled, as they watched my paralyzed state. They moved around me like hungry wolves, as one of them picked up his dead friend’s sword.

“If it isn’t the mighty prince,” he said. “You came for the wrong ones.”

I tried speaking but couldn’t.

“You really thought you would be enough?” he laughed.

“Pathetic,” the other said.

“Arrogant,” the first one then said.

“St*pid!” the other ended. “You have no idea who you are dealing with, prince!”

“The king is dead,” the first one laughed. “Which makes you king!”

“And like his grandfather, he has a thirst for blood. Our blood.”

I had never met my grandfather. All I knew was he had died, yet my mother had not even seemed saddened by the news. She had told me, that he had had a certain hatred towards my father, and therefore he had a certain hatred towards her. He had locked her up in a monastery my father had had to free her from, and then he had died a few years later. I had only been five at the time. My sister three. I had barely been able to understand what was going on, and I didn’t understand what those pagans were saying. I was nothing like that man.

“You are a fool for coming after us,” the first one sneered.

He had an ugly scar going through his lips, or maybe it was a deformity. I couldn’t really tell. I was also very occupied with trying to get enough air into my lungs.

“We serve the God of Death, and you, mighty prince, will die!”

He pulled his sword back, and while I wanted to move out of the way. But I couldn’t. He ran me through, and I tried groaning or even moving, but I was still paralyzed. The pain … it was all I felt, and it was so powerful, all I really wanted was to actually die. I could not handle this pain going through me … it was too much.

The pagan that had run me through just smiled at my expression, showing nothing but pain and fear. He loved the sight of it, as he pulled back his sword, and then leaned his weight back before kicking me away. I could finally move and took a few steps back before the ground suddenly started to move downwards, turning into a hill. I fell down and rolled over the ground, until suddenly …

Splash!

I landed in ice-cold water, and I was slowly falling further and further down into it, as I had no strength to keep myself afloat. I was … dying. Darkness spread all around me slowly pulling me in, until there was no light, and I did not sense reality.