Chapter 062:

Another deep horn blast resounded through the battered city of Nonbu'rn. Every soldier and mercenary stopped and looked towards the source in the north. Nearly all were confused as the fear rose in their faces. Was it another attack? Or had the Border Forts been breached and now the enemy were pouring in?

Anton, Verona, Kal and Alfred mounted their horses and rode towards the northern section of the outer wall. Qaiviel soldiers moved out of their furious charge. They dismounted and found a ramp up to the top of the wall. Alfred ran up the ramp, Anton was surprised that he could move that fast. A few soldiers on the wall saluted, Alfred waved it down, though their attention was clearly focused to the north.

Amongst the rolling grassland hundreds of Orcs, and a few Clansmen, ran chaotically northwards. Any hint of organisation had long been forgotten. They were simply running for their lives.

The mountain range did not extend as a continuous wall. A large gap existed in the middle, smaller snow covered hills forming the a wide passage through the mountain. These hills looked traversable, with some difficulty, unlike the sharp mountains either side. It was clear why the Deweth Clans and Qaiviel were so interested here.

“I bet they didn't think they would be running home like this.” Verona said quietly.

“No they didn't.” Alfred replied. “They won't forget this humiliation for some time.”

Another deep horn blast came from even further to the north. Anton had not looked too closely towards the mountains when they first arrived, his attention had been focused on stopping the enemy.

Below the snowy hills were dozens of white castles, as if they rose out of the grasslands. The Border Forts. Some where huge sprawling fortresses while others were just huge. Each looked like they would be very difficult to take on its own. But these were close enough that they could support one another. Between each of the fortresses were green open expanses. Perfect for the Qaiviel Knights to cut down attackers.

From one of the larger forts towards the center, hundreds of green and white knights rode forth. He did not need his eye enhancement to know they were the knights. Another horn blast and the knights started to fan out into a line. There were far more than he first thought. A thunderous wall of horse and man.

“A whole chapter of a Knight Order, eight hundred armoured knights. Well, those Orcs won't last long.” Alfred looked to Anton. “Have you seen mounted warfare before?”

“Only a few times.” Anton replied. “But they were mopping up armies that had been beaten by magic or by foot soldiers. But nothing like this.”

“Dana would like to see this.” Verona added. “To see how these Knights fight. I think that she would like to hear everything she can about using horses like this.”

“I don't think it's going to be much of a battle.” Kal mumbled.

Anton agreed. The enemy was not trying to defend themselves. They remained spread out and running desperately to the north. Even with his limited knowledge of this sort of warfare he knew that they wouldn't last long.

Alfred grumbled, lightly nodding as he held tightly onto the stone wall. “Although, they'll take all the glory of the battle. Make it out that this was the most important battle.”

“Are they that bad?”

“Perhaps. But maybe...” Alfred took out his telescope and looked at the knights at the front of the charge. Slowly a small smile formed on his face. “Perhaps we might be able to avoid that this time. Duchess Belinda might even be able to get more territory than she first thought.”

Alfred did not elaborate. Anton used the eyesight enhancement magic and tried his best to follow Alfred's line of sight. It was quite hard, but Anton guessed that it was at the centre of the approaching Knights. Six in the center had a small blue flame on their shields, chest armour and helms. They must have been the leaders. The others only had one on their shields.

The knights spread out into a line facing the retreating enemy. An impressive and intimidating wall of white, of muscle and iron, drew closer and closer on the enemy. A few tried to stand and fight, but most just wanted to run away.

A few Knights broke free from the line and charged forward.

“What are they doing?” Kal asked.

“Trying to win glory?” Verona offered with a light shrug. “Maybe they want to be ones that say they killed the most.”

“Look more closely.” Alfred said. “They've got bows.”

The Knights brought out large white bows and began firing at the enemy. They were too far away to see the arrows being loosed, but the Orcs started falling down well ahead of the Knights. He had no idea how accurate they were shooting whilst on horseback. They were firing very quickly. Many fell before they began to slow down and reformed the line with the other knights. Lances lowered as the whole line picked up speed.

Was that part of their usual tactic? To pepper them with arrows...to break a formation? And then attack them. But that could just make them clump together, but it could break the enemies line... I wonder if we can ask what that tactic is.

Maybe they just needed some live practice with their bows.

Screams erupted from the Orcs as the Knights crashed through them. It was not so much a battle as a slaughter. A few tried to stand their ground but they were crushed underneath the wave of horses. Behind the wave the dead Orc's bodies and blood had been trampled into the grass. A red smear trailing through the green. Nothing stood up after they passed. Even the Knights themselves started to become stained with blood.

Three minutes later the whole thing was over. The Knights circled back and ran through the enemy again just to make sure. Nothing was spared, no attempt given to ask for their surrender. Anton wondered what they would try to do with the prisoners they caught. If they were killed it would trash any potential good relations with the Orcs and, more importantly, the Deweth Clans. Part of him doubted if he could find another way into their factions. Especially if they were both hostile to any outsider.

The few soldiers on the wall cheered out in victory. What they witnessed was not really a battle. Still they had all gone through hell with nothing but pieces of iron and leather between them and death. He was not going to ruin their victory now.

“So, what now?” Anton asked, the cheers starting to die down.

Alfred continued to look out with his telescope. He smiled.

“No need to worry about that. They'll be coming to us next.”

“To see if we need help?”

Alfred remained silent.

The Knights reformed themselves, after another sweep of the bloody smear over the grass, and made their way to the northern gate of Nonbu'rn. Anton saw Alfred tense slightly as the Knights came ever closer.

“Open the gate!” a Knight at the front ordered.

Anton glanced at Alfred who held a stoic face. That knight did not seem to be the one that he was looking at before. These knights only had the small blue flame on their helms, not the one on their chest or helms. He could not see where their leaders were. The Qaiviel soldiers looked towards Alfred. He nodded and the gate rumbled open. Some of the Knights scoffed and jeered as they entered Nonbu'rn, even audible from on top the wall. Alfred waved from them to follow him down.

The Knights rode triumphantly into the city. Anton could feel the apprehension between the dirty soldiers and the gleaming white and green, and blood red, Knights.

“Who's in command of this mess?” the first Knight that entered the city barked the moment he stopped. The Qaiviel soldiers looked at one another as Alfred was still walking down the ramp.

Here we go...

The Knight raised his helm, a handsome face scowling down at the dirty Qaiviel soldiers beneath him. He, and every knight around him, seemed to regard them as literally beneath them. They barely restrained their horses from hitting the soldiers.

“Do you not bow in the presence of a Knight?” he growled.

Many of the Qaiviel soldiers looked awkwardly at one another before giving a rough bow. Most of the Knight's chuckled, like this was their due.

Yep. This is going to be pretty terrible.

“Well? I asked you a question. Have a few little Orcs taken away your voices too? Or are you all too stupid to understand words?”

“Wow...These Knights really think that everyone's beneath them.” Verona mumbled into his ear.

“Perhaps they've spent all their time in a life of privilege.” Anton offered. “Where they're the heroic protectors of the realm, protecting these people that are beneath them. And they deserve adulation. At least that's the vibe that I'm getting from them. I could be wrong...He could just be a dick.”

Verona chuckled, even Kal let out something akin to a weak laugh.

“Well?!” the Knight was getting even more angry. Evidently he was not used to people not answering his questions right away.

“Forgive me, my lord.” Alfred said as he reached the ground, giving a deep bow. “My legs are not what they used to be.”

Guess you need to play the part. For now, at least.

The other Knights were still filing into the city, some moving past him but all remaining on their mounts. Anton still did not know if he was a leader. Those with the blue flame were far more likely to be in that position. This Knight might just be high up in their command structure. And was taking the initiative.

“And who are you?” The Knight lent forward along his horse, a look of annoyance on his face.

“Alfred, Servant of Duchess Belinda. Here to counter the Clansmen and Orc invasion.”

“You call that an invasion?”

Before Alfred could speak more another Knight came towards them. This one's armour was more ornate. The most noticeable thing was the small blue flame on his helm and chest plate.

“Alfred...I never would have thought that I would hear that name again.” the new Blue Flame Knight spoke with a gruff voice through his closed helmet. Alfred smiled, an honest smile, while the first Knight frowned towards the Blue Flame Knight. “But I didn't expect to see you here. So far from your little home near the forest.”

“Things have changed.” Alfred said. He took a glance back at Anton. “Quite a few things. Hopefully for the better.”

Alfred approached the Blue Flame Knight, only for the first Knight to draw his sword. Anton barely saw it happen. “You dare approach without an invitation from my Lord.”

Alfred stopped, his body completely still as the sword hovered at his throat. The Blue Flame Knight sighed as he shook his head.

“Put that thing away, Castor.” he commanded, the Knight following his order. “Apologies Alfred. Some of the new Knights need to learn how to talk with the common folk properly. So they're not hated. Or killed by an angry peasant with a pitchfork through their throat.”

“Lord Marcus?” he said weakly, only to be glared at.

Castor, the first Knight, grumbled as he withdrew his sword. Alfred shook his head as Lord Marcus dismounted from his horse. He removed his helmet, a dark brown head of hair and greying beard underneath. His face was not particularly ugly or handsome. Plain but a sense of strength deep within. Many scars adorned his face. This man lead from the front.

“Quite a bit it seems.” Alfred took his mailed hand and shook it roughly.

“Indeed. I never thought I would see you again Alfred.”

“Neither did I.”

“When was the last time I saw you?...Oh yes, just after the last Centaur invasion. By the Holy Father, that was a wretched time. Then you were heading off to Seocuria. How did that go my friend?”

Alfred looked down at one of his legs.

“Not well. But, I survived.”

“It's still good to see you alive. Where you honestly telling the truth when you said that Belinda, that little fiery brat, sent you? Doesn't sound like her.”

Alfred nodded.

“She has grown well under your guidance.”

Anton could see Alfred almost wince.

“Well...” Alfred chuckled and smiled again. “Very recently so, at least.”

Marcus frowned, his face going dark. “Indeed. I've heard quite a few bad things coming from her lands. The territory she manages at the behest of the King. Incompetence and decadence, I kept hearing. I was in half a mind to head there myself next winter to see if it was true. If it was, I would have no choice but to issue the King's Justice. My friend.”

Alfred paled at the end. It was easy to guess that it would have ended with Belinda's death at the very least.

Marcus's face softened. “Though what I've been hearing lately is that it's come good. Very good. I'm not one to pry, but, what happened?”

“Perhaps later.” Alfred said, letting out an awkward and nervous chuckle. “Once we've got everything sorted.”

“Right.” Marcus clapped his mailed hands. “Chatting for latter. We've still got a war going on.”

Marcus turned to Castor, the man instantly straightening his back.

“Castor. Organise the Knights to sweep through the city-”

“Actually,” Alfred interrupted, Castor looked on furiously while Marcus simply stopped mid sentence. “There are no more Orcs or Clansmen fighting within the city. We've been doing sweeps ourselves and we haven't found any for some time. All are captured or dead.”

A few murmurs of disbelief ran through the Knights. They looked at the Qaiviel soldiers and mercenaries. When they made no move to the contrary, they appeared to respect them a little more.

“The messenger you sent said there were tens of thousands of Orcs and Clansmen assaulting Nonbu'rn. Are you saying they are all dead? With just this force?”

Marcus looked at the damage wrought on the city. It was not particularly bad here but areas deeper into the city were clearly more damaged.

“Dead or captured.” Alfred replied with a smile. “The city is calm and safe.”

Marcus seemed quite impressed, a smile coming to his scarred and bearded face. The Knights chuckled, though Marcus quietened them with a raise of his hand.

“And how did you manage that?” he asked. “Furthermore, how did your little city...Maxill, survive the full army? The messenger was a little thin on details.”

Alfred coughed and waved Anton forward, also waving at Verona and Kal.

“Commander Marcus, I have the honour of introducing...”

Oh. We didn't have a discussion on what I'm, or any of us, are to be called.

“Grand Mage Anton....”

No attempt at hiding it then.

“One Lady Verona, and Lady Kal.” Alfred looked at Marcus. “They are some specialised mercenaries that Duchess Belinda hired to defend our lands.”

Marcus frowned, his eyes flickered from Kal, who he gauged as unimportant. She didn't even have a bow with her, and his stuck on Verona. Specifically her hair.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Didn't think you'd manage to get someone from the Silver Eagle Clan on your side. Very strange.”

“I'm not from one of those Clans.” Verona said with a frown. “I've only just found out that I'm meant to be related to them. It doesn't matter to me at all. My hair colour doesn't make me good or bad.”

“Do not speak unless you are being spoken to.” Castor unsheathed his sword again and lowered it towards Verona.

A brief of flicker of fear ran through Alfred's eyes, Marcus caught it. He looked at Verona, who was growling back, bearing her teeth. Marcus raised his hand to stop him.

“It's fine.” he said, the sound of a sword slowly being sheathed coming from Castor. “I'm guessing that that you three aren't from Qaiviel? I'm sure that I would have heard of a Grand Mage by the name of Anton.”

“If he really is a Grand Mage.” Castor said. “Nobody that young could be a mage of that power. Probably just a mage with lots of scrolls and magical items.”

Castor waved his hand dismissively, several of the Knights chuckling and nodding in agreement. Marcus paid them no mind. This time. If Anton could not deal with the jeers of a few how could he be expected to be a powerful mage.

Anton coughed. “My companions and I were hired by Duchess Belinda to defend the Qaiviel Kingdom. We have done our utmost to do that.”

“That's heartening news, for the Duchess's sake. She's gone above her position to help secure this Kingdom.” Another scoff came from Castor, which Marcus ignored again.

“If you are a Grand Mage...” Marcus looked to the Qaiviel soldiers who nodded furiously.

“He is...My lord.” one of the soldier spoke up, one that had travelled with them from Maxill. “Killed thousands of them at the Gravestone, all by his-self. And more here.”

Castor scoffed but Marcus threw him a glare, silencing them with one look.

“Even more interesting. But, where have you been for so long? You clearly aren't that old, and someone this young and powerful could not be hidden. I've never heard of your name before...You don't have a name assigned to you by any of the academies. The Qaiviel Kingdom would not just let someone like that wander freely. So...who are you?”

Marcus's face was completely unreadable as he looked through Anton.

Didn't really think too much about that. Though, it's obvious in hindsight. Someone that could level a city wouldn't be just some mercenary. Whomever the rulers are would do their utmost to keep them controlled, through money or force...more likely money.

“Commander Marcus, I am afraid to say that I have lost my memory and can only remember until the beginning of this spring. I have been travelling to try and recover it. During my travels I came across Alfred and Duchess Belinda. I agreed to fight with them when they explained what was happening.”

“Curious...” Marcus trailed off. “I trust Alfred's words. Though, I would like to see some of that power.”

Alfred coughed before Anton could reply.

“Perhaps later. We still have more to do before we can relax and celebrate our victory.”

“Quite.” Marcus turned and mounted his horse in one swift motion. Despite wearing the armour he did not need someone to help him. A strong man. “It is quite crowded here. Do you have somewhere with a bit more space? Somewhere where we can spread out.”

“Outside Governor Eilis's mansion, there's a marshalling area that's...almost clear.” Alfred said. “There should be enough room there for your Knights.”

“Good to hear. We'll meet you there.”

Marcus whipped the reins of his horse, leading the Knights towards the center. More Knights let out a snigger as they passed them, a few even tried to kick some Qaiviel soldiers and mercenaries that got too close to them.

Alfred released a large breath in relief.

“That could have gone a lot worse.” Alfred said quietly.

Anton moved closer. “They seem like they could be assholes. You thought they could have killed you?”

“It was a possibility. I had no idea of how close Duchess Belinda was to death. I didn't know they were taking that close attention to us.”

“Seems that it all turned out alright.”

Alfred chuckled. The last of the Knights passed, and the Qaiviel soldiers seemed just as relieved as Alfred now that they'd passed.

“We shouldn't keep them waiting.”

They started following the Knights moving towards the Governor's mansion.

“So who are those jerks?” Verona asked. “Are all the Knight's like that?”

Alfred shrugged. “From what I remember, yes. Sometimes a lot worse. The Blue Firestorm Chapter is pretty good by most standards.”

“I'd hate to see a bad one.”

“Pray to your old gods that you don't meet anyone from the Black Riders. Or the Golden Roar.”

Saying that name caused Alfred to shudder. Anyone with a name like that was bound to have some problems. They said nothing more as they walked in silence.

---[]---

A large table had been brought out from inside the mansion so everyone gathered could attend the meeting. All of the local leaders had been gathered and Commander Marcus, Castor and two other Knights attended, both equipped with a bow and large sword. Other than Marcus the other three Knights seemed rather annoyed at the presence of everyone except Alfred, and even that was at the behest of Marcus. Marcus and Alfred seperated from the group for some time, chatting rapidly amongst themselves. When they parted Marcus patted Alfred on the back that nearly hurt the old man.

Rosanna laid down the map of Nonbu'rn and the surrounding Border Forts. Marcus studied it for some time before speaking.

“Before we begin, I believe that we are missing someone.”

“The Governor?” Anton offered, quickly remembering who he was speaking in the presence of. Castor and his Knights scowled angrily but did not reach for their weapons. Marcus's words lingered in their heads.

“Indeed. Where is he?”

“From what we heard he fled well before the siege even began.” Alfred said. "Like a coward."

“I doubt that.” Castor said. "I've always known him as a noble and respectable man. Of good blood...and not diluted by the rabble." Anton immediately did not like the direction he was travelling.

“He ran when he could have done something to get them ready to fight.” Anton replied. “He left two days before the assault and did nothing to ready the people for the siege. Just running...That's hardly a competent or caring leader. Besides, you didn't even know it was happening until we sent you a message. And Nonbu'rn was already burning by then.”

He felt a silent agreement coming from Rosanna and those present from the city watch. They would not be forgiving the Governor for some time.

“Why are you here, mercenary?” Castor nearly spat out the word mercenary. “The battle has already been won, and you are not needed here.”

“Anton is here at my behest.” Alfred sternly replied. “And he is not someone you can just dismiss because you are a Knight. He isn't from Qaiviel, so he does not need to bow and scrape your arse.”

The space was silent, except for Marcus letting out the faintest chuckle. Castor's face reddened. “Fine. But his two...friends, do not need to stay.”

“They actually do.” Anton spoke back. “And-”

“And how can we trust this silver haired Clansmen traitor?” Castor continued. “Or the one that's dressed like a wounded shambler, too ashamed to show their face-”

“You'd better shut your fucking mouth before I burn you alive.” Anton said flatly.

His words took everyone by surprise, even himself. Conrad and Hemiskr glanced at one another before slowly backing away. Nobody noticed, their attention focused on Anton and Castor, except Marcus. He took a deep breath and folded his arms, content to let this play out.

“We have been chasing sixty thousand soldiers, and we're all pretty tired. Phyisically and mentally.” Anton continued. “And I am not in the mood to deal with some stuck up Knight that thinks the world revolves around him. Especially after you just insulted people very important to me.”

“Really?”

“Castor.” Marcus said, equally quietly. “You are a very brave and courageous fighter, none can match your skill in swordsmanship, but I want you to use what excuse you have for a mind between your ears. Before you say anything else, think and look for once.”

“What-”

“You have just insulted this man's companions. Companions, who in their own right look like they could be dangerous, but you also insulted a man that claims to be a Grand Mage-”

“A spurious claim.”

Anton sighed and raised his hand. Six lightning and fire bombs floated around him. Castor stumbled backwards in surprise while Marcus gritted his teeth.

“You see?”

“I've never heard of a Grand Mage looking like him.” Castor blurted out. His hand instinctively reached for his sword. That seemed to be his response to everything.

“So, because you've never heard of it before, it cannot possibly be true?”

“I...” Castor did not finish.

Marcus turned to Anton, some beads of sweat running down his face as he glanced at the hovering and thrashing balls of magic. “Please forgive Castor. He is a a good Knight and leader of soldiers, but doesn't think things through. Words...tend to just come out of his mouth. Especially when dealing with other people. I put it down to his youth and fiery blood that runs through his body. He's a good man that's a great benefit to Qaiviel, and I do not want to see him dead this day. I ask for your forgiveness in this matter.”

Marcus bowed his head. Conrad, and the other Knights, looked on shocked but soon followed. He didn't really mean it, nor had he learned anything.

“It's fine.” Anton said, withdrawing the magic. A wave of relief overcame those present. “But, I'm not just going to let it slide without an apology of some sort from him.”

“You-” Castor raising his mailed finger.

“Castor!” Marcus yelled.

Marcus gave him a death glare, Castor immediately quieting. He refused to speak. Anton grumbled. Perhaps he could get something more out of this.

“My friend,” Anton nodded towards Kal, who looked towards him. “Lost her bow when she was fighting eight Orcs, by herself.”

Everyone looked surprised at Kal.

“She only has three daggers to her now. So...” Anton looked at one of the Knights to Castors side. “I think one of those white bows will be a good repayment. I think one of those...and I'll let it slide.”

Verona chuckled, resting her spear over both shoulders. Doing so brought attention to the marks on her hands. They were not glowing but were clearly obvious against her white skin. Marcus frowned and nodded to Castor. The smugness in his face faded as Marcus continued to stare.

“What?” Castor spluttered out, looking back to the bow wielding Knight. “A single Bleached Tri-Bane Bow is worth more than a quarter of this city. I could buy a small mansion for myself if I sold one.”

“And yet you disgraced yourself.” Marcus replied, folding his arms. “And our Order. So, give them the bow. We'll get you another one.”

The Knight grumbled and handed the bow to Castor. With a scowl he handed the bow to Anton.

“My apologies, Grand Mage.” Castor mumbled through gritted teeth. "I'm sorry for my words."

“Thank you.” Anton said as he took the bow. He could had said something further but Castor did not need further indignation added to him.

The bow was beautifully made, and extremely light. The wood was bleached white with faint swirls followed the grain of the wood. It was perfectly smooth in his hands. He barely registered it's weight in his hand. And yet it felt incredibly strong.

Anton turned to Kal, her body jumping a little as he handed it over to her. She took it in silence, not to further annoy Castor and his Knights, and studied the bow. She looked extremely pleased with it. If she did not have to wear her cloth wrappings he was sure that we would be smiling like the world's happiest child.

“Thank you.” she whispered to him. He gave a little nod, as she placed the bow on her back, and turned back to the map.

“With that...Issue, sorted.” Marcus looked at a sorry Castor. “We should actually begin.”

No one offered any objections.

“Very well. Are we certain that this was the only attack the Qaiviel Kingdom coming through the Accursed Forest?”

He looked towards Anton. Perhaps he wanted to see if he was going to contribute, especially after taking away a very expensive sounding bow.

“We interrogated a few Clansmen in the forest.” He began, Verona and Kal letting out a noise of discomfort. “We were very thorough in our questions. This is the only attack in support of their main offensive. The prisoners we asked said the same thing, and they were the commanders. So they should know something about another planned attack more than just grunts. I don't know if they have enough soldiers to launch another diversion.”

“We cannot be sure if they are not going to prepare another attack.” Marcus looked at the map.

“Can they spare another thirty thousand soldiers each?” Anton asked. “Especially now that you're aware of what they're up to and are ready for them.”

Marcus hummed as he poured over the map. He stared for some time.

“No. The main attack might have fifty or so thousand Clansmen, probably more since they were planning this sneak attack, but a good portion of them are able to get away. They haven't suffered a set back like this for some time.” A thin smile came to his lips. “They won't be trying anything for several winters. Could be a long time of peace and prosperity in the north.”

“So, we can get ready to go home?” Hemiskr asked, holding his ground underneath the stares.

“Soon.” Marcus replied. “We may need you to remain for a few days while everything calms down. But there shouldn't be any fighting.”

“That's good to know.” Verona mumbled quietly.

“Since the Governor is still absent, we should deal with the Orc and Clansmen prisoners.”

“We should mount their heads on spikes all along the border.” Castor spoke with enthusiasm. “That will send them a message.”

“Lord Marcus.” Alfred began, Castor raising a questioning brow. “May I have a quick word?”

Alfred moved next to Marcus and whispered in his ear. Marcus heard it in silence, his previous frown deepening, but finally nodding as the conversation dragged on. A tiny smiled creeped up his face as he looked at Anton and then back to the governor's mansion. They returned to the table, both looking very happy.

“Very well. On the issue of the prisoners I agree with Alfred.”

“On what?” Castor asked.

“All of the prisoners that we have taken will be released to the enemy. No exceptions.”

“What?!” Both Castor and Rosanna yelled at once. Both seemed surprised that they, of two very different social ranks, had the same thought.

“They've killed so many.” Rosanna said exasperated. “They must be punished.”

“I must agree.” Castor said, with the other Knights in agreement. “Their lives are forfeit. Not that their deaths nor blood can bring back those that have died.”

Everyone became silent. Marcus looked like he might be starting to back down from his decision. A decision that could help Anton, and Atros, immensely in the long run for some short term painful heart ache.

“I have spoken to the leader of this campaign.” Anton began. “The Clansmen leader does not seem enthused by the direction the Deweth Clans are heading. If put into a position of power I believe that he will want to make the Clans less violent and willing to work with the other Kingdoms and Empires.”

It wasn't the exact truth. Ivano was not going to spill everything about his world views. If they were killed everything could become that much harder for Anton in the future.

“I find that hard to believe. Especially since we hold his life in our hands.” Castor spoke gruffly as he folded his arms. His previous embarrassment had not worn off yet. However, Marcus seemed to hold the same attitude.

“How many have you spoken to before?” Anton asked.

“They really don't spend a lot of their time talking to me.” Marcus said. “Most of the time they are trying kill us.”

“So...not many?” Verona piqued in, Marcus shaking his head.

“It seems that you are locked in a vicious cycle of killing one another.” Anton raised his hands to stop any serious backlash. “Perhaps, not unwarranted. Though I'm guessing that you don't go into their lands to retaliate?”

“No.” Castor replied. “We cannot wield our horses there. The snow is too thick and the cold hurts our soldiers more than theirs. They have special breeds that can survive the snow. Ones that we don't have.”

“Now...Imagine that you may have a chance to change that. To one where you do not need to fight, where the people of Qaiviel of Deweth do not need to kill each other.”

“Sounds like a dream.” Marcus said.

“It very may well be.” Anton replied with a shrug. “Instead of just killing them you could release them. See how this view could grow and change the Deweth Clans from within. It may end your near endless war. Who's to say it won't?”

“But what about the others?” Marcus asked, Castor and Rosanna agreed. “Do they share this same...sentiment of change?”

Anton shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. But now they can live and think about what happened. Maybe the sentiment will spread.”

“Or they could just think we are weak.” Castor grumbled.

“But they know how many went out here to conquer and pillage. And how far they actually got.”

“And how many died.” Verona added.

“There is no way they could think this was a glorious battle.” Marcus said. Anton was surprised that he agreed. “A few thousand demoralised, battered men is not much of a threat. Especially when added to their normal attacks. No stories could be sung about this in any way other than a defeat. It might be something.”

“So. When can we meet these people?” Castor asked. “I'm very interested in talking to them. See what they have to say for themselves.”

“Releasing them will only take a few moments.” Alfred began. “But they still need a bit of time to heal and be ready for the journey. What we need to deal with now is our missing Governor. Who fled and left the people to their doom. To find him and have him answer for his actions.”

Castor scoffed, his face softening.

“Perhaps...Perhaps if he had fled, then-”

A Qaiviel soldier came running up to them. His face was red from exertion.

“You...” Castor began, but stopped. He was not going to risk making a bigger incident of himself, today at least.

“My Lords!” the soldier said, he held his hand over he abdomen between laboured and pained breaths. He took a few breaths as he straightened himself up. Anton noticed that everyone was looking impatiently at him.

“Forgive me. My Lords, Governor Eilis has returned.”

“That's surprising.” Conrad said quietly, otherwise silent so far. “I thought he would have taken all his money towards the capital.” Everyone looked to him. “From what I've heard from the servants that survived most of it's gone.”

“He had more?” Anton asked quietly, Conrad giving him a nod. “There were still gold statues everywhere. That's quite a bit of gold then.”

“Make sure that he gets here, fast.” Marcus barked at the soldier, his back straightening. He turned to Castor. “Go with them. I don't want anything happening before he gets here. I want him to explain himself.”

Castor brought the two Knights with him, as well as getting several other Knights resting in the marshaling area.

Marcus shook his head. “I wonder if that little barrel of lard is coming here of his own volition.”

“Not impressed by him?” Anton asked.

Marcus grunted. A smile formed on his face. “Not in the slightest. Perhaps I'll finally be able to administer the King's Justice. I've been looking for some evidence, let's see if there's enough this time. Perhaps everything will work well...”

Marcus watched Castor disappear through the gate. Anton saw Alfred trying to recover the color in his skin at hearing about the King's Justice. Nobody said a word, all waiting for the Governor to arrive.

-------------

Hello.

We meet the pride of Qaiviel, their Knight Orders.

They're a bit stuck up, but having tonnes of money and prestige will do that, make them seem that they're above everyone. Marcus and Alfred have some history, which makes it easier for them to get along with. Castor is a bit of a jerk, but more comes from his upbringing rather than just being an arse. More that he has always been in the position of superiority and doesn't really get it otherwise, whereas someone like Marcus, who was once a merc, knows a bit more.

Kal's got her bow back, yay, and a better one too.

Now we've got the former Governor to deal with, the King's Justice, and Verona's thing.

That's that.

Thanks for reading! And for any Donations!