His skill was most remarkable because of one thing - he refused to wear a breastplate. He thought it was too bulky and hindered his attack. His armor consisted only of his helmet, a shield, his shoes and mail belt, and his magnificent sword. But he never wore a breastplate. In all his years of fighting he had never been wounded in the torso, his skill was so great. His fame spread far and wide.
Ryn became the target for many warriors seeking to exploit his weakness. They came from far and wide to challenge him and he defeated them all. He fame increased, as did his pride. He began to think he did not need a breastplate, that it was only for the weak and unskilled. He could defend himself with his sword and shield. And to all who watched him fight, fluid in his movements and deft in his blows, it seemed that he was right. Why would such a renowned fighter so skilled in the art of war need something as cumbersome as a breastplate?
Ryn did not know that fame breeds not only respect but envy. His own brother Steryn, first in line for the throne, grew weary of his brother's attention at first. Over the years and months Steryn grew to despise Ryn. Why did everyone think he was so great? After all, he was the younger brother. Steryn was older and stronger and one day would be king. People should admire and respect him, not Ryn. Soon, he began to hate his brother.
Beloved by most everyone, Ryn fell in love with the beautiful Ariel. Steryn was furious at the rumor of romance and vowed he would find a way to put Ryn in his place. His opportunity came not many days later.
Bandits invaded the northern borders and the King called for mighty men to travel north and fight the invaders. Steryn and Ryn were both sent, and rode with many others to the north land admist the cheers of the city. The battle was fierce, and the bandits merciless. During the heat of the battle while Ryn was fighting, bandit after bandit falling before his magnificent sword, his brother came alongside him in a pretense to fight with him. While Ryn was focused on the enemy, Steryn plunged his sword deep into his brother's back. In the midst of the battle Ryn, unaware of where the blow had come looked down to see the blade emerge from his chest. As a look of confusion and suprise swept across his face, he dropped first to his knees, then lost conciousness falling on his face. Steryn called out to the others that Ryn had fallen in battle. Disbelief empowered them to press back the bandits away from the body of Ryn. The fierceness of the assault drove the bandits back, and suddenly they broke ranks and fled into the wilderness. The other warriors rushed to Ryn's still body.
He was barely alive. They bound his wound and returned as quickly as they could to the city. News of Ryn's deadly wound spread and when he returned it was not to cheers and accolades but boos and ridicule. He was not such a mighty warrior after all. He was a foolharty spoiled prince, full of pride and arrogance. He was simply a man like everyone else. Steryn heard the taunts and was pleased. No one suspected he was the traitor.
Ariel nursed Ryn back to health, her love for him stronger than the strongest steel forged in the flame. But Ryn was not the same man. The blade had tore a small hole in his heart nearly piercing it leaving him weak and vulnerable. The physician told him he must be careful, the heart had a wound that once healed would leave him vulnerable to death if he ever fought again. What was he to do now? He was a warrior, not a farmer! As he recovered he grew suspcious of Steryn, wondering if his brother had betrayed him in battle. His parents, the King and Queen loved him, but also looked to Steryn as the heir. One day he confided in them.
They did not believe him. Steryn was a fine brother and would never betray Ryn. The wound had come from battle, invited by Ryn's own pride and arrogance. Hadn't Steryn been the first to his rescue, fighting back the bandits to save his brother? Ryn was not convinced and his mood grew increasingly dark.
In spite of his foul mood, Ariel loved him still. But he was a shell of the man he had once been. Although healed of his wound, there was a wound deeper still that Ariel and the physician could not heal. He rejected her love, unable to love himself. One day he went off into the wild woods and did not return.
to be continued...
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