Legend of the Swords: War by Jason Derleth Page A

attempts at movement were hilarious; some of them were kind enough to get lunch for their squires while the squires sat down. Armand wasn’t so kind.
    “Squire, bring my lunch to the other side of the tree.” He looked over to the other two Crowns, who were pulling food out of their bags. “You two are too easy on your squires.” He turned back to Ryan. “Boy, get these two noble knights food as well.” He slung a wineskin over his shoulder, and put his arms around the other two knights, pulling them away from their saddlebags despite their protests.
    Ryan loaded a small sack with some bread, fruit, cheese and dried meat, then hobbled over to the other knight’s horses. Their squires looked on, clearly more exhausted than he, as he put more food into his bag. He then picked up a skin of water and walked out to the knights with their food. As he walked, he felt the function in his legs rapidly returning.
    The knights were deep in conversation, and continued speaking while Ryan served them.
    “Gregory,” Armand was saying, “I think it’s absurd. The Triols can’t have gotten as far as they are supposed to have gotten. They would have had to leave while there was still snow on the mountains. How would they have gotten over the pass?”
    Gregory was a thick knight, short, with a full black beard. He had a bit of girth, but underneath the soft-looking exterior were strong muscles. Ryan knew because they had propelled a sword into his body every time he had sparred with Gregory. The man was a master swordsman, and that was why he led the group.
    Gregory thought for a moment before responding. “Well, something’s attacking the villages. I’ll be damned if it’s not the Triols.”
    “Do they have any Singers?” William asked.
    The other two were silent for a while, but finally Gregory responded. “We think so, but nobody knows for sure. We know that they have had certain … advantages, that would only have come from help from their kind.” He sighed. “Triol is a large country. I think it’s safe to assume they have some sorcerers. I worry that they have one of the Talented ones, though. I think they know where they’re going.”
    Ryan’s face must have shown puzzlement; William touched Armand’s shoulder and said: “Your squire looks confused. Have you not schooled him on the Singers?”
    Armand looked at Ryan, then grunted. “Didn’t seem important.” He turned back to his food.
    Gregory sighed and addressed Ryan directly. “Ryan, important things that Armand deems unimportant could fill a book. I’m sorry, we should have had a unit-wide meeting to fill everyone in. Not all of you squires have the same experience with … oddities like the Singers.”
    “I know of the singers, Sir Gregory,” Ryan said. “I don’t know much about them, though.”
    “The Singers are sages, learned men and women, who have shown an ability to manipulate part of the world through the use of their mind.” He shrugged. “Some call them sorcerers, others call them devils, for how else could they have gotten their powers? They call themselves ‘the Singers’ because their power comes from song.
    “You can usually tell when you’re dealing with a Singer because of the robes that they wear. They all use different colors, depending on preference, but the robes are straight, hooded, made of a single color, have multiple stripes on the shoulders made of felt, and are tied with a piece of rope.
    “What I fear most is that they have a Searcher with them,” Gregory continued. “A special kind of Sorcerer that helps locate something that has been lost. Searchers are very rare.” He drew himself up a bit straighter, and raised his eyebrows. “I have never even met one, though I have met one or two Singers.”
    William smiled. “My fellow knight is very proud, methinks. We have thirty Singers fighting with the army. It is something to be proud of: together, they are like a thousand men.”
    Armand mumbled something