The Piglet Of Tybaldt

Legends Of The Pendaroth

The Piglet Of Tybaldt

by

Al Bruno III

From The Journals Of Brother Thaddeus

...the era of machinery and miracles was long over. The sons of men struggled to rebuild from the ashes but the world had been tainted by the night the Monarchs had gone to war...

*

Kahl burst from his burning house barefoot and dressed only in breeches. Red dripped from his battered old sword, there was red on his chest and hands. Kahl no longer knew where the blood of loved ones began and the blood of their murderers ended.

Everywhere there was smoke and screams. A ragged shape charged at Kahl, brandishing a pitchfork and howling. A single swing from the old sword brought Kahl’s attacker down. A second tore a long, deep wound in his chest. More blood stained Kahl, this time it puddled at his bare feet and ran in thick rivulets along the cobblestone road.

Madness had come to the city of Shamblestone, a madness that had farmers and merchants fighting in the streets.

Everything Kahl had ever loved was in flames.

*

From The Journals Of Brother Thaddeus

...wherever the Monarchs had fallen a terrible contagion had spread out from their bones. This was the Barrens, a land of ruin and nightmares. Every year it moved glacier-like across the sea and the land, across the mountains and the valleys. A Protectorate was formed, soldiers and scholars that tried to keep the Barrens from despoiling the world...

*

The old sword bit deep tearing into the stomach of the man that had been clumsily swinging a sickle at anyone that came near. Kahl stabbed forward again. Pain robbed the sickle-wielding man of his strength, his knees buckled and he fell forward until the old sword was buried to the hilt.

Kahl kicked him down and yanked the blade free. It didn’t come easily.

The village of Tybaldt and the city Shamblestone were close enough that they shared ties of trade and clan. Yet despite that all it had taken to set both communities at each other’s throats was a three eyed piglet.

*

From The Journals Of Brother Thaddeus

...legends said that the Pendaroth would be gold-eyed and broadly muscled, that he would pass unscarred from the nightmare landscape of the Barrens, that he would gather the Valiant Ones to his side and set the long-suffering world to right.

But those legends had never specified when the savior would come, charlatans and fanatics began to speak for him, trying to make his Apotheosis their own...

*

Because of a three-eyed piglet a city was in flames, because of a three eyed piglet babies had been stabbed in their cribs and shrieking daughters had been raped within sight of their dying fathers.

Kahl had lost count of how many men he had slain. His arms were quivering from exertion, he had been wounded a dozen times but he couldn’t feel any of it. He was beyond feeling.

The wagon that carried the three eyed piglet was in the city square. The citizens of Tybalt had declared the little animal to be blessed by the Pendaroth and the citizens of Shamblestone had dismissed it as nothing more than tainted livestock. Three nervous looking farmhands guarded the wagon.

Kahl headed their way.

*

From The Journals Of Brother Thaddeus

...true, flesh and blood heroes had been birthed in the thousand empty sunrises since the Monarchs' war. Shardovan the Wise, the Vagabond and the Witch From Another World had lived and died fighting to hold back the Barrens but they could never outshine the dream of what the Pendaroth might be, and what he might bring...

*

Kahl swung the old sword in a short high arc, shearing off a farmhand's jaw. Another farmhand brought his club down on Kahl’s wrist. The old sword clattered to the ground. The third farmhand struck Kahl on the back if the skull.

Staggering Khal lunged for his sword only to have it kicked away. More blows rained down on him. White sparks were dancing before his eyes. The two remaining farmhands brought Kahl down. He cursed and struggled but his cries were no different than any of others echoing through the streets of Shamblestone

*

From The Journals Of Brother Thaddeus

...throughout my life I studied the legends of the Pendaroth. I will go to my execution believing in him but I offer you some words of caution with a touch of blasphemy.

People rarely get the messiah they expect or the salvation they think they deserve...

*

The piglet squealed. The two farmhands shouted with horror. There was a robed man on the wagon, a swath of dirty cloth hid his lower face, a pair of oversized goggles concealed the rest. He had the piglet pinned under one of his booted feet.

Kahl forgotten the two farmhands scrambled up onto the wagon but the robed man was ready for them. There was a blade in his hands, it was slender and gently curved. Even in the smoke it shone.

It flashed twice leaving one attacker headless and the other without an arm. Then the cloaked man used the blade on the three-eyed piglet. The man that had lost his arm was sobbing but he was quickly silenced.

Then robed stranger leapt from the cart and approached Kahl. When he was close enough he pulled the cloth and goggles away to reveal pale features and bright gold eyes.

“Pendaroth...” Kahl breathed, “...forgive us...”

The gold-eyed man’s expression was sardonic, “The Valiant never apologize.”

*

From The Journals Of Brother Thaddeus

...always remember people rarely get the messiah they expect or the salvation they think they deserve...