They’d finally pushed the mob back enough to get the gates to the courtyard shut and locked. Landon set Guardsman Erinore to the ground and then sank down against the cold stones to try and catch his breath. He was feeling every year of the last six decades of his life and beginning to question his capabilities for the job at hand. Outside the people yelled out against them, but hadn’t started trying to scale the short wall to get inside. Not yet at least. It was a short reprieve they were all desperately in need of.

“Someone bring me a light!” Landon yelled out to the men nearby.

A moment later someone handed him a torch that had been lit only a moment before. He used it to look over the man he’d just dragged back with them during their retreat. Erinore’s unblinking eyes stared up into the hazy night sky, seeing nothing more. Blood still trickled from the side of his scalp where a hammer had crushed his skull, slowly pooling underneath the body.

“Damn,” he murmured, feeling the pains of regret. “How many more must we lose?”

A younger recruit came up beside Landon, stinking of the filth that had been thrown upon him, but in relatively good health. “Sir, what do we do now?”

Landon gripped the base of the torch, feeling the anger flow through his very soul it seemed. “We hold out here until reinforcements arrive. What’s your name, guardsman?”

“Danielson, sir. Edward Danielson.” The young man tried to sound as confident as possible given the situation, but his eyes betrayed the nervous tension he felt.

“Alright Danielson,” Landon said, putting his hand on the young man's shoulder, “You know how to get up on the main city wall from the barracks? Yes? Good. The auxiliary forces are stationed along key points of the wall, and if we’re lucky, they may be willing to send a few extra men so we could hold out here until Jorrin arrives back.”

The young guardsman gave a brief salute and ran off inside the barracks to hopefully find the help they needed. Landon wasn’t so sure the military leaders would be willing to send anyone, but they were in a dire situation. He’d lost quite a few men just trying to get back here, and many dozens more had been injured. The field triage they were doing was saving many lives, but it didn’t put the men back into fighting shape. They needed fresh troops to shore up the defenses.

He shook his head, knowing what had to be done, and strode out into the courtyard. “Listen up,” he yelled, loud enough to be heard over the gathered mob outside the walls. Soon he had the attention of several dozen guardsmen hanging upon his next words. “We’ve been bloodied and beaten back, but we have not been defeated. We stand here inside our own home, and we must defend it now. I hate to say this, but if anyone who doesn’t belong here tries to get over those walls, shoot them down. If the gods, fates, or simply luck is on our side, help should be arriving soon and we’ll not lose anymore men needlessly.”

Landon set them to their tasks, sending many to defensive positions and the rest to tending the wounded. He also administered whatever aid he could to the injured guardsmen, checking on their status and trying to reassure them. Many had suffered broken bones or deep lacerations, but could eventually make a full recovery. Some however, he wasn’t sure would make it through the night if they couldn’t get a real medic to them.

The twang of a crossbow sounded off nearby him, followed by a scream from the wall. Landon cringed, knowing exactly what it was. Still, it had to be done. Perhaps a few dead would send a signal that they were tired of being pacifists and they’d no longer stand for being pushed around.

A few more shots were fired, but Landon ignored those, trying to focus instead upon the bandage he’d just tied off on his own arm. It wasn’t a deep wound, but it did need tending to. Suddenly he heard a call that lights were upon the main wall. He looked up and saw them heading in their direction. He couldn’t see who or exactly how many, but it was as if the miracle he’d been hoping for was about to arrive.

That hope turned into confusion when the reinforcements exited the barracks and he got a good look at who was leading them. “I haven’t been in the military for a few decades, but I’m confident they still don’t allow foreigners to take the role of officer.”

“Times change," Garwin said. He looked back to the assembled soldiers he’d brought with him. “Bring the field medics and get these men taken care of.”

Landon shook his head and sighed. “I can’t afford to turn away the aid, So I’ll thank you for it.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Garwin said. “I’m here to arrest you.”

The guard captain stood up straight, fully at attention. “Neither of us are the type for jokes, mercenary. By whose authority do you claim to have power and for what crime?”

Garwin let out a hearty laugh and began to yell loudly. “By the power invested in me by Lord Rowan Aganossis and the Judicial council, I hereby charge Landon Marshall with being an accessory to the murder of Sombec Martin.”

It took Landon just a moment to start piecing it together. “I’ll speak with Rowan about this when I see him, but for now, I believe there are more pressing matters at hand. Nevermind the fact that I don’t trust you in the slightest.”

Garwin pulled out his longsword. “Rowan is back in the city now and the riots are being put down. As for you, the matter is non-negotiable. You can come quietly, or you can come forcibly.”

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Landon gave his answer by adjusting the strap on his worn shield and then pulling out his side sword. He was tired, and he wasn’t sure he could take the younger man in combat even if that wasn’t the case. Still, something about this all seemed off to him. Garwin was an Aganossian military deserter, and now he stood there in an Andestian officers uniform like he’d always belonged there. He didn’t trust the man before, and he wasn’t about to start now.

They circled one another warily underneath the flickering lights of torches and candle lanterns, shadows dancing all around. The bigger man suddenly shot forward with a yell, swinging his blade wide and hard into Landons shield. The older veteran took the blow, but made no move to counter the strike. It was simply a test to help better judge an unknown opponent. There was a numbing tingle in his arm though after the attack, and he suspected his opponent wouldn’t be capable of delivering too many hard hits like that. All that force in a swing wore a sword arm out rather quickly, as any combat veteran could attest to.

Garwin launched into a series of lighter attacks, swinging that big sword into Landon’s shield repeatedly. Landon began to see now that the bigger man was trying to get an opening in his defenses, but he knew that tactic well. It was all standard military combat drills, and the loser would be the one that made the first mistakes.

One the younger man made first. Garwin overextended himself and left a slight opening at his legs. Landon quickly pressed his shield up and gave a quick thrust, leaving a cut on the padded thigh and a slight trickle of blood. Garwin let out a low growl before leaping back to square off again.

“I’d heard you were good in your prime, old man,” Garwin said, a slight smile on his lips. “That was many years ago, and old age catches up to even the best.”

Landon nodded to him. “That might be, but only one of us is bleeding so far.”

Garwin came in with a raging howl, striking hard with a two handed grip against Landon. Every blow sent waves of pain through his tired shield arm, and splinters of wood were beginning to fly off. He’d be dead by now if he’d relied on one of those flimsy shields like the one he used last time. Still, he wasn’t sure if his arm could take much more of this beating, and he’d need to go on the offensive soon.

There. Another clumsy mistake and Landon was able to strike low, leaving another gash on the big man’s leg in nearly the same spot. Instead of jumping away this time, Garwin tossed aside his sword and grabbed Landon, driving him back towards the solid stone wall.

Landon fought hard just to keep himself upright, but was no match against the bigger man's strength and size. Soon he found his back against the wall and Garwin using his body weight to repeatedly slam into him, knocking the breath from his lungs. After another body blow and a punch to the face that left his ears ringing, Landon dropped his sword and fell to the ground, barely coherent.

Garwin knelt down, grabbing Landon by the hair and holding his head up. “You must have been a hell of a leader to these men, because they’re willing to throw their lives away for you. If you don’t surrender, they’re going to die.”

His vision still somewhat distorted, it took Landon a moment to focus on the scene before him. His men had their crossbows at the ready and pointed towards Garwin, while the military men had their weapons trained upon the guardsmen. He saw them willing to sacrifice themselves for their commander, and it made him proud of the fighting men they’d become over the years.

He couldn’t bear the thought of it though. “Stand down men. I’m sure Lord Rowan will sort this all out.”

Slowly they lowered their weapons and the military soldiers did as well. Landon managed to stand up, despite the quivering in his legs. He undid the straps of his shield and tossed it to the ground, thankful to be free of the weight. His arm felt almost as if it were about to fall off at this point.

Garwin smirked as he pushed Landon towards the barracks. “I think your own dungeons should suffice until the roads to the palace are clear.”

They walked inside, leaving the sounds of the violent night behind them. “How do you know Sombec is dead?” asked Landon.

The big man shrugged. “I don’t actually know, but I assume that girl hated him as much as she did that old woman from the orphanage.”

Landon turned to him for a brief moment, trying to judge if the mercenary was lying or not. “Are you saying Danica killed Stenouse and removed her heart?”

Garwin laughed. “She killed her, but I did the rest myself. The girl is rather easy to manipulate, so I set her on the right path. If there’s one thing her kind truly love, it’s murder. You can’t give warhound pups to children unless you want to see them mauled, same as you can’t breed out a dark elf’s desire to kill people.”

They went downstairs and into the darkness below. Landon used a firestarter to strike a nearby torch and handed it off to his captor. Escape was completely out of the question as long as they had his men’s lives at risk, but the thought did cross his mind briefly.

“But why bring back people’s fear of that murderer?” Landon shook his head, visibly confused. “And what if Danica didn’t actually kill Sombec tonight?”

Garwin pushed Landon into an empty cell and shut the steel cage door behind him. “Because I was told to do it, and that’s what they pay me to do. As for that idiot priest, if she didn’t kill him tonight, then I would.”

Landon knew their time was almost up, and had only time enough for one more question. “Who told you to do it? Who’s behind all of this?”

Garwin rubbed his chin for a moment, debating on giving the answer, and then shrugged. “The judicial council set this up I believe, and maybe Rowan had some part in it as well. The council is dead though, all except for Elnar Perrin who murdered them, and I think him and Rowan are going to have it out tonight. No matter who wins there, I’ll be on the right side and profit handsomely off of it.”

With that last answer given, Garwin left him alone in the dark to think about what he’d just been told. If Danica had actually been the one to kill the old matron mother, then he couldn’t really fault her for it after the abuse she’d suffered. He especially wouldn’t fault her for killing Sombec for the things he’d done to her either. To think of that little girl he’d met all those years ago becoming a killer, did cause him some small amount of grief though.

Still, he hoped she was alive and well out there more than anything.

Landon removed his chainmail armor and tossed it to the floor, not caring anything more about it. After all these years, it was becoming too much of a burden to continue wearing. He was tired now and wanted nothing more than to rest. The old wooden bench almost seemed to cradle him as he lay upon it and closed his eyes.