Author’s Note: I feel somewhat like I am baring my chest and asking to be punched by sharing this work of mine (do authors always feel this vulnerable about their early writings?). The Task of Egis is is a medieval fantasy story I began about 2014. I have worked on it on and off (mostly off) over the years, and it is not at present complete. I dare say it improves as it goes along. My hope is to revisit, rework, and refine it into a publishable book, but in the meantime, I invite you to read along with me! Please share your thoughts, questions, or constructive criticisms in the comments so I can incorporate them into my writing process.
Prologue
A light, a vision, and a gift:
What wondrous things! So they lift
The spirits of he who they endow.
Egis found himself in a place full of light. He could not see a floor, or a roof, or any walls; only bright light, everywhere. Somehow this did not disturb him; on the contrary, it felt perfectly normal, and having floors now seemed a strange thing to do. But though he was content where he was, Egis felt as though he were waiting for something. No, not something: someone. So, he waited.
It was not very long before a voice beckoned him to turn around. He did so, and beheld the most beautiful lady he had ever seen, dressed in royal garments and smiling at him with a gaze so tender and loving that he was moved to tears of joy. He felt as though he could remain there always, not eating or drinking or moving about, only staying in her presence forever.
He had no idea how long it was before she spoke, but when she did, it was with a voice sweeter than all the songs in the world.
“Egis, my son,” She said, “You have always been dear to my heart. Ever have I watched over you, enfolding you in my mantle and guiding you with my hands. And now, my little one, you are ready for the task which I have been sent to give to you.”
The lady then stretched out her arms, pulling back her cloak and revealing a magnificent sword and shield at her bare feet. The sword was made of something better than finest steel, intricately engraved with writing up and down its perfect blade. Its pommel held within it three blue stones set in the shape of a triangle. The shield was crafted similarly out of the same extraordinary material, bearing runes around its oval rim and studded with three shining sapphires.
“Come,” The lady told him. Uncertainly, Egis moved forward, until he stood just before her. Then, almost involuntarily, he fell to his knees, bowing his head in awkward reverence. She smiled more widely, and spoke to him softly, saying, “Do not be afraid. See, these things are for you, to help you in your task.”
Picking up the shield, she presented it to him, continuing, “Rise, my son. Take this shield, a tool of defence, and use it to protect those who cannot protect themselves.” Likewise, she took the sword and proffering it to him said, “Receive also this sword, a weapon for battle, so that you may combat well against the enemy.”
Egis accepted the items tremblingly, staring at them with awe.
“The task I give you is a great one,” The lady went on. “It is not for you to finish; only to begin. When your part is ended, your descendants will take on their roles, until the deed is done. I will send a guide to each of you, to show you what you must do. You will know them by this title: Sent. Do as they say, and you will succeed. Are you willing to do this for me?”
Egis looked up with mixed feelings, unsure of how to respond. Seeing her gentle face, however, resolved all fear in his heart.
“My lady,” He said slowly, “I am willing. But I am not a warrior; how will I be able to wield these gifts?”
“Dear Egis!” She responded. “You do not need to be a warrior; only a protector. That is how you should wield them.”
“I will,” He said.
At that, the light all around Egis began to fade, and the lady faded with it. In a moment, Egis came to himself in his own home, where rays of early morning light were creeping in through the window of his room. He stood there for a moment, dazedly trying to make sense of what had just happened. Turning in a circle, he found that nothing remained of the lovely vision – except for the sword and shield in his grasp. They were still there, as fantastic as in the dream.
Looking up at the rising sun, Egis realized that whatever had occurred, he had been given a Task to perform.
Chapter I
Protector he himself must make,
And so to travel Egis takes
In order to make good his vow.
Egis wasted no time in carrying out his mission. He still did not know exactly what was required of him –he would have to wait for the Sent for that- but he knew that he would need to be able to handle the arms which he had been given. Egis had never so much as brandished anything more than a knife, not since he was a child at any rate. He had always preferred to read, and spent most of his time doing so, filling his house with all manner of scrolls and tomes. In fact, Egis rarely got out at all except to go to the market twice a week. When he was old enough to live on his own, he had sought out the most obscure yet comfortable place he could, and arranged everything within it in the style most affable to bibliophiles.
So it was that while Egis knew a great deal about the world and its workings, he had little practical experience of it, and least of all physical combat. Thus he determined that if he was going to fulfill the promise he had made, he would need to find someone who could teach him how to fight. Parthece, the land in which he lived, was usually fairly peaceful, so there were not very many who found enough means in fighting to live off of. The best place to look for a tutor, Egis reasoned, would be in the royal city, Lirenta. With that plan in mind, he had packed as many books as he could manage while still having enough food for the journey, and set out that very morning.
Lirenta was near the border, at the foot of the mountain range which was Parthece’s northern limit. By foot it would take a week’s travel to reach, but the road was a major one and relatively direct, so there would probably be waggoners who might lend a ride, especially since there were plenty of lodgings to stop at along the way. Egis had never been to the royal city before, but he had studied detailed maps of the entire country, being as much a map-lover as he was a book-lover. In addition, he had an excellent sense of direction, so much so that even in the darkest night he was sure of his location. So to Lirenta he went, never having stepped upon the path, yet knowing its every turn.
Yet no matter how thoroughly one knows their route, it will always take the same effort, and Egis was unused to walking overmuch. In merely a few hours he was beginning to feel quite lame, and was taking frequent rests. He had only just reached the main road, and so far had not come across any fellow travelers, much less one with a cart. Luckily, upon reaching the highway he spied two horses pulling a wagon behind them, with a man sitting at the front of it. Hailing it, Egis recognized the man as the owner of one of the market stalls in his town. He was a big, jolly fellow, with yellow hair and a red face.
“Well now, if it isn’t Egis!” He exclaimed. “What are you doing out of your hole? And in the opposite direction of the town, too! I thought you bought all your books from Urdick the librarian. Looking for something more rare?”
“You might say that.” Said Egis, smiling. He didn’t care to say anything about his intentions just yet, especially to someone who knew him.
“Do you think you could give me a ride?” He asked the stall owner. “I have a long way to go, and I am rather ill used to travel.”
“I should say so!” Boomed his friend. “You spend far too much time in that stuffy house. A man needs to breathe the air! You come with me, and I’ll see that you get plenty of it, all the way to Deend if you like!”
“Thank you; you are most gracious.” Said Egis gratefully, getting into the wagon.
“Ho, now don’t compliment me like that! It’s no trouble for me, and I’d hate to see you crawling on your hands and knees on my way back. -What’s that?” The stall owner said suddenly, pointing at the bundle which Egis had placed among the wooden crates. “The Scroll of the Giants?”
“No…” Said Egis, hesitating. It was the sword and shield from his vision, wrapped in a cloak to avoid being noticed. “…It’s a long story…” He continued, not knowing what else to say.
“I could’ve guessed that!” Laughed his companion. “I’ve never seen such a big scroll! Don’t try telling me what it’s about; it’s probably too old and dusty for me to understand.” With that, he turned back to the horses, starting them off again with the touch of a switch.
Egis breathed a silent sigh of relief behind him. The less anyone knew about his mysterious possessions, the less trouble there would be for him. A sword and shield of that quality would be stolen or forcibly bought from him before two nights passed if he were found out.
For the rest of the day, Egis sat in the back of the wagon, while the stall owner talked and chortled about his family, his horses, and just about everything else. He sometimes asked Egis questions about his expedition, but Egis always answered them as minimally as possible, turning the conversation aside as soon as he could. At last they arrived at Deend, a small but lively town built around the thoroughfare. Egis was rather the worse for wear, the rattling cart having chafed him sorely.
“Here we are!” His driver exclaimed. “Welcome to Deend, Egis! If you’re looking for a place to stay, the Golden Tankard should suit you well. They’ve got beds as soft as a pile of feathers there!”
“That sounds wonderful.” Said Egis earnestly. “Are you going there for the night?”
“No, fluffy beds aren’t for me.” He grinned. “I’m going to the Sword and Shield. The Golden Tankard has good lodgings, but the best ale to be had in town is at the Sword and Shield! If you need anything from me, that’s where I’ll be.”
Getting off of the wagon, Egis thanked him, but his mind was elsewhere, working fast as the other clattered off down the road. The Sword and Shield? He remembered the name from a map he had purchased, but then it seemed of little importance. Now, on the other hand… What a strange coincidence! Too strange; he must have a look. After all, beds are beds; but ale! Egis was not so reclusive as not to enjoy a drink when he could.
Accordingly, down the road he went after the nigh-departed cart, in search of a sign and a swig. It was not long before he found the place (he knew exactly where it was), tucked away down a side street. Light spilled out of its open doorway, along with much talk and laughter. Stepping inside, he saw a somewhat small but spacious room, with a fire roaring at one end and thick candles in brackets along the walls. There were tables and chairs throughout the place, and many of them were filled, mostly by local folk but also some passers-by. Egis spotted the stall owner facing away from him near the fire, talking energetically to three other men and making large gestures. Heading to the bar, Egis waited for a moment while the innkeeper, a short, cheerful man, tended to a few of the other patrons. Presently the innkeeper turned to him, saying pleasantly, “And what can I get for you, sir?”
“A bed and a meal, please.” Egis replied.
“Very good.” The innkeeper said. “The room will be 20 coins for the night, and that pays for the meal, too.”
Egis’ expression suddenly slackened. He had no money. He only used it when he went to his hometown, and it had somehow slipped his mind to bring any.
“What!” The innkeeper exclaimed after Egis had explained. “Then you may as well sing for your supper, forgetful fool!”
“May I?” Asked Egis, suddenly hopeful.
The innkeeper looked at him irritatedly for a moment, but then his features lightened and he chuckled dismissively.
“Why not?” He said. “Go ahead; I’ll pay you by how good you are.”
Egis smiled and thanked him, turning and walking towards the fire. He hadn’t planned to gain attention like this, but he hoped that as long as he avoided talking about himself and his reason for being there, he wouldn’t run into trouble. Placing the concealed sword and shield on a bench in one corner, he sought out his companion from the day’s travel.
“Egis!” he exclaimed. “What brings you over here? Do you need something?”
“Only your voice.” Said Egis. “Would you kindly get everyone’s attention for me? I am going to sing some songs, and you have a lustier cry than I do.”
“Very well!” Said the stall owner agreeably. Standing up, he waved his great arms over his head and shouted out over the noise of the crowd, “Friends, travelers, and patrons all! This fellow here knows more tales and songs than any ten of you! He’s offered to sing us a few, so do him a favor and listen for awhile!”
There was a general quieting of talk and some hushing for a few moments, and Egis collected himself, calling to memory one of his favorite melodies. Then he began, lilting merrily:
“Ho dum-a-doo, dum-a-dee, dum-a-day
The river’s a-chattering lightly,
O ho dum-a-doo, dum-a-dee, dum-a-day,
The sun is a-shining brightly,
And who is to say that my path goes astray
When it leads to a place so sightly?
“Ho-dum-a-doo, dum-a-dee, dum-a-day,
Dear sir, I blame you nothing,
O ho dum-a-doo, dum-a-dee, dum-a-day,
What’s more, I’ll tell you something,
That I like it too, and I’d fain stay with you
Here until all the light is a-length’ning.
“Ho-dum-a-doo, dum-a-dee, dum-a-day,
My lady, you are very welcome,
O ho dum-a-doo, dum-a-dee, dum-a-day,
To walk with me and enjoy them,
For life’s very brief, and it is my belief
That the best thing to do is be gladsome.”
He had quite a fair voice, and when he finished there was applause from the audience, who had been tapping along with the lively air. The innkeeper looked pleased at this, and Egis, encouraged, began a much lengthier song, a ballad about the quest of a young knight for a secret land.
“List now to me, as I tell you a tale
Where sorrow and joy are both intertwined,
Of Tarrun the knight and his journey to hail
A land sunk in legends that no one dared find…”
So the night went on. The innkeeper came up to him after a while and told him that he was welcome to stay for the night, with as much to eat and drink as he liked. Eventually, someone produced a fiddle, and other instruments soon followed, giving Egis a chance to get some food and sit down. His yellow-haired friend came over and clapped him on the back, saying,
“Now that was a fine bit of singing! You’re making the birds look pretty poor at their job!”
“My thanks.” Said Egis. “And I must thank you also for telling me about this place. You were right; their ale is the finest I’ve ever had!”
“Good! I’m glad to hear it!” Said the stall owner. “That’s what comes of leaving books behind!”
“Hoi, Silver-song!” Shouted one of the musicians from near the fire. “Can ye sing the Horse’s Hoofbeat for us?” (Silver-song was the name they had begun to call him, since Egis had not supplied his own, and he decided to keep it for anonymity’s sake.) Deliberately, Egis took a large bite of meat and replied in a stifled voice,
“Not wi’ my mouff full!”
Everyone laughed, and they left him to his meal.
When he had finished eating, Egis betook himself to bed, exhausted but happy. He had gone up to the room once already to place the sword and shield there, away from inquisitive eyes. There they still lay, propped up against the wall. Drawing the heavy curtain over the window, he lit a candle, setting it near the bed and retrieving his bundle. Placing it on the covers, he unwrapped it carefully, remembering the ethereal visit from whence it came, and wondering what the purpose of it all might be. Now exposed, the marvellous arms lay glittering in the dim space, casting white and blue lights upon the walls and ceiling. Egis gazed quietly at them, lost in thought for a time. His reverie was suddenly broken, however, by a knock at the door.
Hastily, Egis cast a few folds of the cloak over the objects and went to answer it, opening the entrance only slightly. It was the innkeeper, checking to see if his room was satisfactory. Egis assured him that it was, and was once more left to himself in relative quiet. Turning, he reprimanded himself for being so suspicious, while binding up the sword and shield once more. Falling onto his cot, he removed a book from his baggage –“Tales of Fabled Weapons”- and began to read. He had never been able to escape wakefulness without first having read a chapter or two from something, and at times he found himself captivated, and sleep unappealing. Such was the case now. Losing himself in the story, all weariness fell from him, and he read for many hours before finally falling asleep.
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