As the first line of foot soldiers came into view, Veronica still sat on her horse, pouting. She wasn’t sure who to be mad at; Sebastian for speaking to her in a way she never had been talked to before, or herself for allowing the man to talk to her in such a way. Either way, she still had obediently listened to someone for the first time in several years.
“We need someone to remain here and make sure the gate stays open. You stay here and command the soldiers, Veronica,” Sebastian had called for a pause as the line made it to the unmanned and wide-open outer gate, “I’ll meet your brother and open the inner gate.”
“I do not wait, Willcott,” Veronica protested, “I will meet-”
“You dare disobey my command when we are on the cusp of battle?” Sebastian took a powerful step forward, putting a hand to the hilt of the greatsword on his back, “Your brother embarrasses me by shooting that damned bolt, nearly eliminating our advantage of surprise! You do well commanding the soldiers, but I command you, Veronica. Know your place, and know that it is here until I open the gate.”
His eyes had dared her to put a hand to her whip, yet for the first time in her life, she felt the response may endanger her life. He had left her sitting on horseback, as he scaled the ladder with a speed unmatched by men of his large size.
“Cut the shit, Peace!” Veronica said as the horse bucked once again at the sight of the incoming troops.
“At your command, captain!” One of the men in the first line said as the group came to a halt.
Almost on queue, bells could be heard above, ringing out over the capital and the land around it. It was quicker than she had expected, but it seemed their surprise was at an end.
“Expand your lines and cut the number of rows to a third,” Veronica shouted, “I want spears lowered and shields up! When this gate opens, I want to see your fighting spirit on display! To God be the glory!”
“To God be the glory!” The men echoed.
Sebastian was right about one thing; Veronica was very good at leading these men. She looked into the outer keep, where she saw the last of the first line of attack bank left in the direction of the castle.
Within the first wall, Sebastian Willcott had just begun to feel a much-needed peace. He could almost taste victory already; infiltrating the outer wall without alerting the enemy proved successful, his hair was blowing in the wind as he and his men galloped past scarce and bewildered citizens toward the inner keep. Better than all that, he had put that heartless, bewitching Veronica in her place.
The look on her face!
It was as if his mother had to come to remind him, he thought as the first bell rang and only briefly altered his course of sight.
“You better be doing something about that, Gio.” His words were drowned out by the hooves.
As they cut the distance between the first wall and the inner wall, Sebastian would remember to recoil about the status of this capital; passing homes were a blur of mismatching color, with roofs of misshapen shingles on homes that looked to be demolished by a strong breeze. Litter and filth could be seen on properties and even discarded on the streets, and in one instance their horses splashed through water that overflowed from the sewer nearby. The most shocking sight for him came as they passed through what must be this section of the city's center, as their formation split evenly to either side of a fountain Sebastian saw an establishment using a tarp that flapped listlessly to cover what appeared to be a large gash in the wall.
These people live like animals! Veronica was right!
The consistent inadequacy compared to High Hillford was the last spark that Sebastian needed. If he had ever doubts that he was on the right side of the battle, Runswick had dismissed them entirely.
The longer the bells rang, the more people came from their homes. Shock and bewilderment painted the faces of men and women alike, though more often than not Sebastian noticed the way they didn’t recoil at the invaders. A glance behind him revealed, to his surprise, that residents were moving from their homes to the street, flooding the direction where his men had ridden from like an ocean replacing the riptide a boat makes.
Shifting his gaze back to the road only increased his surprise, as a few residents took to the middle of the road. They wore unrememberable tunics of brown and white, and only two were presently armed with anything, one a shovel and one a plank of wood.
Sebastian had made it explicitly clear to his troops, and Veronica, that blood should not be shed from those who do not impede their victory. It did not bring him joy to see these people mistake foolery for bravery, and while pride was a value to be commended, standing in front of forty horses with men clad in golden armor was outright suicidal.
But the Runswick residents did not move as the horses came down on them. The two men that were equipped held them up and in a stabbing position, in line with the horse's head. It may have been six of them, possibly seven, but as the horses came down on them the spark of bravery would be extinguished. Leading the charge, Sebastian shifted slightly left at the precise moment to dodge the man with the shovel, and as he did he extended his right arm. He caught the man under the chin, and with the momentum of the horse, the armbar proved to be an instant death, sending the man off his feet and landing squarely on the back of his head, a sound of crushing skull unheard yet felt by Sebastian. He did not bother to look back but knew from the growing cries and screams of residents around them that his men had followed his lead.
The only other retaliation between then and the inner wall had come from residents throwing items at them as they rode. Sebastian heard a few curses from his men around them, but he himself was hit by nothing. He was smiling, trying not to laugh as he thought of how horrified his mother would have been to see a kingdom with such little defense, so ill-prepared and ill-equipped to defend their citizens.
When this is over, Runswick will be thanking us! Roofs of gold, soldiers armed with the finest weapons and armor, and the glory of God!
In the distance at the end of the main road, the inner gate could be seen. It was still unopened, suggesting Giovani’s assault had been disrupted, and as the details came to sight Sebastian was both alarmed and excited about what was most likely the reason. Outside of the inner gate, lines of men in silver armor with swords drawn and shields on the ready were present.
Sebastian had not heard any report from Veronica nor even Paulo about such an encounter, and if his studies held true the only military that wore silver from head to toe was that of Silver Acre. It was an important note he burned to his memory, as he would need to see Pidgey after this battle was through.
The inner wall stood at nearly twenty feet tall, the metal gate looking daunting and impenetrable at nearly half that size. A tower loomed directly overhead of the door, where arrow slits revealed reflections of arrowheads that poked out and through them, with more archers to either side of the tower much more exposed. At the gate, the lines of men had to be nearly five rows deep, with as many as ten men per row.
The forty riders were surely at a disadvantage, the realization more of a challenge than it was the reality for Sebastian. In his helmet, he licked his lips, ready to call for his men to continue the charge, before seeing a Silver Acre soldier take one step forward and present their swords horizontally above his head.
The universal call to disengage thought Sebastian.
“Twenty yards men, halt on me!” Sebastian said, as he pulled his greatsword from his back and held it up and over his head in the same fashion as the Silver Acre soldier. The men he led and those he was ready to face were similarly awestruck with the ease he held the immense blade, and at what he deemed the twenty-yard mark, he stopped his horse.
The forward Silver Acre soldier removed his visor, revealing a clean face and pronounced cheekbones, a hallmark of Silver Acre’s culture. Sebastian, his greatswords still raised, released his pointer finger from his grip to acknowledge the still-drawn bows in the tower. The soldier raised a fist in the air, and the arrows were drawn inside.
“You and your troops are from High Hillford, are you not?” The soldier said.
Sebastian removed his visor, “That we are. And you are from Silver Acre.”
“What is your business here?” The soldier pressed on.
“I have the same question for you. Has the King here employed your service?”
“That matter is irrelevant. The only reason you still breathe is to allow mercy and peace to continue in this land. Is it your intention to dissolve your treaties with both Runswick and Silver Acre? Speak clearly and quickly.” What had been a fist, turned now to an open palm by the soldier. The arrows moved back to position, aimed at Sebastian.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“That decision is up to you. We wish to not just continue peace but to improve on it. The status of this land is less than desirable, is it not? I hear Silver Acre is a true beauty, I intend to visit it one day soon.”
“I am still not sure what happened on the outer wall, but if you believe storming the capital of this country will somehow improve peace,” The man spit on the ground, and stepped on it, “You make us out to be fools. I will allow you to speak no more, return to where you came from or face certain destruction. A true captain would not have led their men on such a suicide run. Archers! On him!”
Sebastian lowered his blade now, turning it vertically so that the hilt pointed towards his midsection. He smirked, thinking of Veronica and how he had not only put her in her place but also prevented her from seeing the iron greatsword’s true ability. He shifted his gaze from the lead soldier, turning all his focus to a Silver Acre archer who seemed hellbent on firing on one side of the tower.
I am counting on some support here, Giovani.
“Return to your horse at five!” The soldier yelled, lowering his sword from the air and returning his visor to position, “One, two, three…”
Sebastian was ready, trained at a young age for this very moment, and as the man added conviction and damnation to his tone with the ending of the countdown, Sebastian gripped his greatsword with his off-hand.
The Silver Acre soldier had been the first to fire, the readiness compared to the Runswick troops apparent from the start. He had also been the first to be slain, and the only one who wasn't privy to the power Sebastian commanded.
Both sides had a lapse in action as they watched the event unfold; arrows from left, right and center were drawn and released directly at Sebastian, who had just stood there and accepted his fate. It didn’t happen, however, as arrows passed through Sebastian’s body and struck the cement ground rather than flesh. The seemingly invincible Sebastian then stepped towards the lead soldier, but catching the attention of Sebastian’s troops was the sight of an archer’s head flying from atop the inner wall to the ground below. On the cusp of another kill, was Sebastian Willcott.
Though it had only been a few seconds, troops from both sides seemed frozen for what felt like an entire minute. Men shifted from the Sebastian on the ground, walking fearlessly right to the lines of Silver Acre soldiers, and the Sebastian on the wall, his greatsword flashing with the morning sun as it rose and fell on Silver Acre and Runswick soldiers alike. Somehow, there were two Sebastians, both of them clutching the greatsword in both hands.
The lead soldier seemed to panic, lashing out at the copy of Sebastian still on the ground as he drew near with his own sword. But it happened again, and as his sword passed through the soldier’s last thoughts would be how it felt like he had just cut through the air.
Unnoticeable to either side, Sebastian shifted his left hand on his greatsword so that it was released for a split second, before firmly gripping it once again. The copy of Sebastian on the ground brought the greatsword up in a vicious uppercut motion, where it split the lead soldier into two halves with ease.
On the wall, an archer tried to take out the Sebastian clone with an arrow to the back of the head but only succeeded in killing one of his own as the arrow passed through the translucent body. The archer would go on to fumble his reload, his thoughts panicked and too disturbed by how the man in front of him seemed to be a physical being and had been just a second before as he carved through his peers. The arrow he pulled would not reach his bow, and if he had noticed the way Sebastian’s left hand pulled away and then returned to the hilt of his greatsword, he would not be telling the tale. Sebastian raised his greatsword in a swiping, horizontal strike, leaving the archer headless.
Men from both sides began screaming, the tones incompatible; the horseback invaders had a newfound strength and vigor as the horses charged toward the gate, while the men defending the gate were left too awestruck to generate the same energy, able to muster only an uneasy, hoarse response to their attackers.
Sebastian stayed atop the wall now, and as he slayed the final soldier between himself and the flanking tower’s doorway, the men below him crashed into one another. He allowed himself to look over the wall, and while his early guess had been that this would be where his troop falls, the soldiers below were an entangled mess of steel being flashed and horses flailing as they stacked atop of horse and man alike. His eyes specifically fell on a horse with a sword jutting through both ends of its neck, the rider taken by the blade as well and stuck to his horse as it protested for mercy before tripping on another horse.
This is better than I could have ever imagined!
Sebastian kicked in the door to the flanking tower. Inside, to his chagrin, nearly a dozen soldiers laid dormant on either side of the small, grey brick room. Candles still burned, as one was being played with by Giovani, who stood with his hand on one of the inner gates releases. He looked to be grabbing the fire as it danced on the candle, only for it to still be there when he released his hand. The matching gate release was closer to where Sebastian stood.
“Quick work Giovani,” Sebastian said with genuine praise in his tone, “I knew you were around here somewhere. Couldn’t have just opened the gate yourself?”
Giovani’s mustache seemed to move with his eyebrows, as the two rose to extreme objection, “The gate wasn’t opened? I surely did open it! You tell Veronica I opened-”
“I meant this gate, the other gate was open just fine.”
“Oh-h-h, I got ya. Check this out!” Giovani had his left hand remain on the lever he controlled, as he tried to reach his right hand to the other release, falling more than a yard short. He continued trying, exerting himself.
“Ok, I get it, I get it.” Sebastian crossed to where the other release was.
“Wouldn’t do that quite yet.” Giovani said, pointing to an arrow slit that pointed within the inner keep.
Sebastian moved to it, and upon looking through, found Giovani to be quite right. Within the inner keep, men and women of mismatching attires littered the ground from the gate through the yard and up the castle steps.
“So this is where they position their army,” Sebastian said with a laugh, “The last line of defense. I pity this wretched place.”
“Ay, me too. No way this place is as fun tomorrow as it was yesterday.”
Sebastian looked at him, quizzically, “So you enjoyed your stay in this land Visconti?”
Giovani had moved to look through the slit as well, and without turning replied: “Yes, a funny and happy lot these people are. And how they drink!” He said seriously, before adding, “Probably not your type! Ho ho! Oh, you would've hated it Willcott.”
Sebastian didn’t disagree, but wanted a bit more, “How would you know that I would hate it?”
“Like I said, funny and happy, no facade of duty and honor, just people living.”
“Well that is more your crowd, I wouldn’t have found it fitting to be drinking in the litter.” Sebastian said, and as Giovani moved away from the slit, he found himself back to it and asked another question, “What time do their knight's practices start in this country?”
“Ho ho!” Giovani said, slapping his knee, “The knights here would praise you for asking a good question, then get back to you never with an answer! Silver Acre would’ve been more to your style I’d wager.”
Sebastian recoiled at the embarrassment, seeing through the slit what appeared to be a group of men in dark, weathered armor and ill-fitting leather standing closer to the castle steps. Their lack of astute posture told Sebastian everything he needed to know about the truths and nightmares Giovani spoke of.
Screaming had overtaken the neighing going on below them, and Sebastian moved to the other wall to assess the damage. Looking below, a mess of golden and silver bodies along with the brown of horses littered the front of the gate, with movement apparent from both human and horse limbs. Dark blood pooled the scene, streaming towards a nearby gutter. Two men clad in silver were still standing, facing off and quickly slaying one of his men, the last that seemed to be alive outside the pile. One of the men in silver fell then, and now it was apparent to Sebastian that the man only had one arm.
“Giovani,” Sebastian started, “why the hell would you shoot that bolt as a way to alert us?”
“Well how else was I supposed to! It worked right? Paulo never gave any specifics!”
“Paulo instructed you? But how?”
“Oh, creepiest shit Sebastian! I’m working at the bar, two mornings ago it was, and a priest of High Hillford walks into the bar…” Giovani trailed off.
Sebastian allowed a moment to pass, before saying: “Giovani?”
Giovani snapped his finger, “A priest of High Hillford walks into the bar! Oh boy, wish I was a bit sharper. I had this friend that could turn anything into a rousing joke! I need to remember that should I-”
“Giovani!” Sebastian boomed.
Giovani looked genuinely surprised, before adding, “So yes, the priest starts talking and whose voice is it! Paulo that crazy bastard! I nearly shit-” Giovani was cut off by a slap to the face.
Sebastian kept his hand in the air, “Address the Grand Bishop Paulo in such crude form again, and I will kill you, Visconti.”
Giovani’s face was still turned from the slap, feeling with his tongue what was a loose tooth. The tooth dislodged at the next push, and Giovani spit it out along with a wad of blood.
“Maybe I deserved that slap, Willcott,” Giovani said, a grin displayed on his face, “But you speak very bold for someone who has revealed his material’s power to another owner. Those training sessions in the yard may have you confident, but they also leave you incredibly protected from the true nature of the world. For starters, I see your blade, while you do not see mine. Shouldn’t you have noticed that, oh great Sebastian?”
Sebastian did not retort at Giovani, only turning to get another look through the slit of the tower. He knew how true the killer’s words were, however, he also knew how incredibly flawed either of their downfalls would be should they fight now. He knew from his mother that the victory for the Visconti’s came from the capture of the Whitewoods, and the protection of Sebastian.
But where is that damned dagger of his?
“You said he spoke to you, through a wandering priest?” Sebastian said as if nothing had happened to them.
“Yes, his voice, even his smell, it was both incredible and unnerving. ‘In two days, open the outer gate at dawn as you see the fog settling, then wait for reinforcements at the inner gate’. The next thing he knew, the priest was asking me where he was! Queer right! Didn’t help the confused guy since I was playing a mute of course. Just kind of kept shoo-ing him till he left.”
Sebastian stored the bit of info for future use. Even for the Willcott family, the best-armed and richest family in High Hillford, the workings of the gold material Paulo owned were a bizarre mystery. Within just this morning alone, Sebastian had been found out two powers; the fog that had perfectly draped their incoming assault, and now this ability to speak through people. He imagined that all other owners of such materials were just as curious as he was about others, as Veronica had been about him, and now he realized how problematic it was that Giovani knew at least a bit about his greatsword.
The details would have to wait, as he saw the first line of golden troops march into the main road in the distance.
“On me, Giovani. Let’s end this.”