Champions of Lernath

[Hialmar]

This is not the final version. I will probably edit and lengthen it several times during the twelve days of Christmas. I dedicate it to all of you who like sword-and-sorcery.

Champions of Lernath

Gronn, princeling of the Sky tribe of Lernath, was reclining in his bed. It was the darkest time of the year, and the powers of Chaos had been growing for months. He had awoke because of a bad dream, and he couldn't return to sleep. It was the memories haunting him. Without doubt, belonging to one of the noble houses of Lernath had its benefits: An unlimited supply of food, drink and firewood, but the ways of the noble houses also had its drawbacks: The strict codes of behaviour, the contempt for emotional display (except for courtly love) and the neglect of the Heir's younger siblings. Gronn grew up in the shadow of his eldest brother, Prince Melor. While Melor embodied what the House of Sky was supposed to be – martial prowess, brilliant talent for military tactics and playful display of courtly love – Gronn had spent most of his youth in the ancestral library or on pilgrimage to the half-forgotten and neglected holy sites of The Ancients. At the time of their grandfather's death, the Axe of Tarnandt had been passed from their father, King Mundor, to the new Heir, Prince Melor, and Melor had become the new Thunder-Champion of the Sky tribe. King Mundor had been scornfully clear about how useless Gronn would be in the war against Chaos, and he had been wedded to Princess Delaria of Pnossos in an arranged marriage at the age of 16.

The darkest night. The face of Delaria haunting his memory: How they shyly had got to know each other, and found that they were friends rather than spouses. The face of Selamon, priest-wizard of Pnossos, who secretly bestowed the Spear of Shamshiel to Gronn, transforming him into Solarius, Sun-Champion of the Sky Tribe, under the vow, that Gronn would remain celibate his entire life. The devastating memory of Selamon's death at the hands of The Lord's of Chaos. The excruciating memory of Delaria's supernatural death, because Gronn – in his assumed form of Solarius – broke his vow of celibacy. The long years of repentance, protecting the countryside from monsters and the spawns of Chaos. His life knew duty. Duty and pain. But not much of comfort.

Unless his form as Solarius was a comfort. He was never expected to transform into Solarius, unless it served the common good, but every time he transformed he would feel a rush of strength, power and pleasure. Masculine power. Virile pleasure. His everyday concerns would fade, and he would have access to the wisdom of every former holder of the Spear of Shamshiel, and the strength of the Sun would flow in his veins. One of the cosmic powers, the Sun-power, would transform him, meld him and imbue him. The thought of the Sun-power made him aroused, but the memory of what his lust had brought upon Delaria caused a new wave of despair to flow through his soul.

Then he heard a noise. A muffled noice of movement. Someone was climbing the wall to his window. His instincts awoke, and his suspicions: An assassin sent by the powers of Chaos? Swiftly and silently, he grabbed a dagger and hid behind a tapestry, espying a silhouette heaving itself over the windowsill: The silhouette of a powerfully built man – impossibly powerfully built and muscular. For a few seconds, Gronn remained silent and unmoving and watched. When the clouds unfolded, and moonlight erupted into the bedchamber, the identity of the intruder was revealed.

"Him? No it can't be!" 

* * *

It had been four, nay five, years since he fought the champion of the Earth tribe by the southern ford of River Lenn, and it happened three years after Delarias' death. As Solarius, he had got rid of the monsters, which had terrified the farmers in the southern principalities, and the rumour about Solarius had began to spread outside the Sky tribe. The Earth tribe was strange: The Sky tribe could never, ever, trust them, and most of the Council Elders held the view, that the Earth tribe served the Lords of Chaos, just as the Sea tribe did. There were rumours about human sacrifices to the Earth Mother, and the ways of the Thunder-warrior had never informed society among the Earth tribe, if the ways of the Earth tribe deserved the name 'society'.

The champion of the Earth tribe! Gronn had never seen a man like him. Not even Melor, when he hurled the Axe of Tarnandt, was able to grow into a shape equalling the intimidating and monumental mountain of indomitable muscular brawn that was Brenn-Dar – Earth-champion of the Earth tribe. But how could Brenn-Dar be here? And why?

* * *

In the moonlight, Gronn could see Brenn-Dar come closer to the empty bed, and see how he halted, when he found the bed empty. Gronn could see the naked muscles of the Earth-champion ripple as he kneeled at Gronn's bed, fumbling behind it, as he sought for something. Gronn was acutely aware of what was hidden behind his bed: The secret he had hidden from his parents, brother and enemies – the Spear of Shamshiel, which would reveal the secret identity of Solarius. Although Gronn suspected, that some of the Council Elders would be able to observe the coincidental presence of Solarius at the same locations that Prince Gronn happened to visit by the same time, Gronn's brother had never suspected anything. Gronn had to act fast, if he wanted to prevent Brenn-Dar from stealing the Spear of Shamshiel, and he had to do it in the shape of Gronn, not in the shape of Solarius.

He couldn't stop himself from emitting a muffled yelp, as he throw himself over the incomparably bigger man. His left hand grabbed Brenn-Dar's chin, and the dagger in his right hand threatened the throat of Brenn-Dar. His naked chest and waist rested against the Earth-champion's hard, wide and powerful back, and only a linen loincloth separated his manhood from the muscular lumbar of Brenn-Dar.

"Not the least move, Earth-champion! How dare you trespass? What are you doing here?"

To Gronn's surprise, Brenn-Dar began to laugh, and not the insane cackling laugh so widespread amongst the Lord's of Chaos, but a rich, deep, low, confident and benign laugh, that ill suited the situation. Gronn didn't know, what happened to him the next few seconds. He could sense himself falling off and tumbling around, a firm grip around his wrist, and the sound of his dagger falling to the tiled floor. Gronn found himself with his back against the floor, and with Brenn-Dar sitting on Gronn's knees and his enormous hands holding Gronn's arms grounded to the floor. Gronn could feel the scent of sweat – the sweat of a man who had performed an honest day's work – and he could feel the scent of Brenn-Dar's boots and leather trousers.

"I am going to alarm the guards. There is nothing you could do."

"Before you shout, princeling, let me ask: Are you willing to reveal your secret to your family, your tribe and to your enemies?"

"Which secret?"

"Don't play innocent! Prince Gronn never met me before, but you recognised me, since Solarius met me years ago, and, though your bedroom is dark, I could recognise the Spear of Shamshiel behind your bed. Moonlight is enough for me: The Earth tribe's got sharp eyes, untainted by the oil-lanterns and gas-lights of you spoiled Sky-tribesmen."

Gronn sighed.

"If you know my secret, all my enemies must know it. Are you trying to deliver me to the other Lord's of Chaos? And why aren't you dead? I left you maimed by the ford of River Lenn!"

"I am not your enemy, Prince Gronn, and I am not a Lord of Chaos. Nor was I your enemy by the ford: It was you who attacked me under wrong assumptions. Don't shout, and I will keep your secret and tell you why I'm here."

Gronn watched the Earth-champion looming over him with suspicion, but was also surprised, that he was still alive, and puzzled by how the Earth-champion's behaviour differed from the other Chaos Lords he had encountered and defeated in the past. He tried to recollect the circumstances of their previous fight. In his Solarius-form, Gronn had hunted down The Wyvern of Krann, and was still exhausted by the struggle with the wyvern, when he tried to cross the river. Brenn-Dar had been sitting in a punt on the river, and taunted him for his victory. They had both fallen into the water, and must have wrestled for half an hour, until Solarius had been able to throw his opponent away a distance suitable to push the spear through him. Gronn – that is, Solarius – wasn't accustomed to men who matched his strength: The Chaos Lords were usually emaciated and disfigured beings shaped in twisted forms similar to the creatures that served as their minions. The Earth-champion was different in that regard, and he had emitted an overwhelming presence of health, vigour and life-affirming – almost jubilant – masculine strength, then as he did now. Something stirred in his guts and in his mind. Stirred, and spread to his loins. An equal. An equal to Solarius. The surprisingly lengthy wrestle then. The firm big hands tying him down now, without harming him in any real sense.

His facial expression must have confirmed to Brenn-Dar, that he was willing to listen, because the Earth-champion continued to speak:

"I wish to assist you in your war against Chaos, but part of my assistance is knowledge, and I don't expect you to believe what I say. The Lords of Chaos threaten the Earth tribe, just as they threaten the Sky tribe, but your tribe has seldom been willing to listen to what we say."

Brenn-Dar paused briefly, and watched a furrow form between Prince Gronn's blond eyebrows.

"How many times have you heard your kinfolk repeat the proverb of the Thunder-warrior: 'If you are not with me, you are against me.'?"

Gronn opened his mouth to say something, but the foreigner continued:

"Let me then quote a few proverbs of the Earth Mother: 'My enemy's enemy is my friend.' and 'There are always more than two sides to things.'"

"It's not possible! There is law and order on one side, and there is chaos and death on the other. There is no place for bystanders. You have to choose side, otherwise you will allow Evil to win! You speak like a Chaos Lord!"

"I doubt that. They are usually as rigid in their certitudes, as you are in yours."

"Are you here to fill my ears with lies? I will not listen. Kill me now. I prefer to sacrifice my life for the sake of my tribe and the powers of Order, than to succumb to the defilement of Chaos."

Brenn-Dar shook his head in silence.

"Many embodiments of Solarius have sacrificed their lives in the past. Some out of stubbornness and folly, but many for the noblest causes and most honourable reasons. You so often do. Don't waste your life for nothing this time, and listen to what I have to say, laddie."

Brenn-Dar fell silent again, and it looked like he was thinking. He was a man of action, and it looked like he was unfamiliar with prolonged times of decision-making. For some reason, Gronn found Brenn-Dar's facial expression slightly endearing, if that word was even possible to use about someone like the bull-like brute. Could a Chaos Lord be endearing? Seductive, yes – but endearing?

Brenn-Dar glanced in the direction of the hidden spear.

"I might be a fool, but I will prove my earnest will by allowing you to turn into your champion-form. Would a Chaos Lord do that, princeling?"

Gronn watched in suspicion, as Brenn-Dar removed his hands from Gronn's wrists, and removed his knees from Gronn's legs. Gronn arose. Still glancing in disbelief, Gronn walked in the direction of the spear.

"Is this some sort of cunning plan to corrupt me, though it sound like madness to give me the upper hand?"

Brenn-Dar's face was indistinct in the moonlight, but Gronn could discern something similar to self-effacing humour, though probably more based on the voice than the expression:

"If you look for cunning plans, I would expect that from the Champion of shepherds and craftsmen rather than from myself. Slyness is not what I am famous for, and I am aware of that. I prefer to say what I mean and mean what I say."

That facial expression again. Endearing. Unexpected.

Gronn grabbed the spear. A titillating feeling awoke in his guts. He knew what to expect, more or less, and he knew he liked it. He swallowed. For an instance, he adapted to the Earth-champion's manner, and asked:

"You have given me a chance to turn into my champion-shape, which is unexpectedly chivalrous of you. May I return the favour, by asking if you really want to face the full power of Solarius?"

"I wish you no harm, laddie. On the contrary. Go on with your business. I know that you like it. As a matter of fact, I can see that you like it."

Brenn-Dar's smiled knowingly, and glanced at Prince Gronn's tenting loincloth.

Gronn blushed. The next moment he murmured:

"By the power of the Sun!"

He usually did this in daytime, and he had never turned into Solarius in the longest night of the year. The transformation was mainly familiar, but it was tinged by something unusual, something unfamiliar... His unremarkable chest began to fill out, the arms of a scholar-prince turned into the hard and bulbous limbs of a fighter, and he could recognise a feeling he loved to experience every time he turned into Solarius: His thighs pressed each other sideways, grinding against each other, and forced him to change stance into a confident position with his legs wide apart, and he knew, that his gait would be more waddling when the transformation was complete. It wasn't complete. His spine was buzzing of power, and after a few initial moments of shivering, his back widened and became meatier – meatier, but highly defined as the mirror had revealed to him in the past. When his transformation now occurred in darkness and moonlight, he wasn't able to see what happened to him, but he could feel it: The familiar sensation of empowerment. Intense empowerment. Empowerment beyond comprehension. The imbuement of of the Solar power. His waist turned into an impenetrable fortification of granite-hard abs, his calves swelled into monstrosities, and his traps... Oh gods! His traps... He emitted a moan of pleasure, and he could hear Brenn-Dar laugh silently in his deep, rich voice. Gronn – no, Solarius – moaned again, as his traps continued to become engorged with cosmic-divine strength, and his shoulders grew into the size of balls children play with. The revealing clothes of Solarius materialised around him, defying danger in its scantiness of any protecting armour or chainmail. His boots surrounded his powerful feet and the lower parts of his calves. A codpiece of gilt leather covered his groin, and a belt of lion skin surrounded his highly defined waist, keeping a scabbard and a sheath in place. Golden gauntlets surrounded his wrists, and a bronze torque surrounded his, now immensely powerful, neck. The Sun! The Sun! The Power of the Sun! Even in the longest night... But now it reached him, not from above, not from the sky, but from the depths, through the earth under him, reaching upwards, streaming upwards through his bootclad feet and brutally engorged legs, upwards through his groin, guts, chest, traps, bullneck and brow. He tried not to roar, but he wasn't certain what noises he might have emitted, when otherworldly visions of solar prominences and unknown radiation supplanted every rational thought. The Sun Barque was his, as it now navigated the Underworld Sea. The solar disk burned in the centre of his heart, and its heartbeats were his heartbeats. His was the summer and all songs, the strength of the lions and the leopards. His was the all-fertilising prowess of light, despite his vow of celibacy. His was the force to subdue darkness, and when he regained awareness of his physical surroundings he was Solarius in all his might, standing in Prince Gronn's bedroom. Brenn-Dar laughed again, silently in a warm and friendly growl, cheering the presence of the Sun-hero:

"Welcome, brother. You will soon see, that we are not as different, as you sometimes thought."

 

Edited December 27, 2017 by Hialmar
Continuation

[Ro20316]

Pretty amazing first chapter. The way you iwrite is beautiful

[Hialmar]

Thank you very much, Ro20316! Sometimes I struggle with English, since it is a foreign language, but I try to do my best. I like to play around with it.