The thundering of hooves filled the air as the riders closed the distance to the red robed men. In the corner of his eye, he saw Erini swap the red gem on her staff for a white one. Artek swallowed and only remembered to draw his sword when the horsemen raised their lances. They were only a hundred yards away now and would be upon them in seconds.

Around him, the Vermillion Company stood their ground unflinchingly. The peasants of Drendrie had scattered almost at once. It was common sense. A man could not hope to stand up to a steel clad charging beast almost ten times his weight. Many had been cut down from behind or trampled before Lord Filern ordered an end to the slaughter. In the end, they had surrendered meekly. All their valuables had been confiscated, and their taxes tripled for the next six seasons.

Artek’s hand tightened around the hilt of his sword and his lust for blood began to override his fear. Here before him were men born to rich families. Men who had wanted for nothing as they grew up. Men who had denied him his fair share of plunder that he and his fellows had fought tooth and nail for. Had bled for. Had died for. If he were to die here, he would take as many of them with him as he could.

“Forget huddling in the rear waiting to die,” a voice whispered into his ear. “Let’s get to the front and go out in a blaze of glory.”

“Hold!” Ereldred roared from the head of the formation.

Artek jumped. It was as though the Captain knew that he had just been about to push his way past the red clad men in front of him. He looked at the elf, whose eyes were firmly on the charging horsemen. Could he have sensed Artek’s impulsiveness, or was it just a coincidence?

“Captain?” Erini called out. There was a nervous tremor in her voice. Artek glanced at her and saw that her eyes were wide with fear and her knuckles were white around her staff.

“Hold!” he repeated imperiously.

Artek looked up and his stomach did a flip. The horses were only thirty yards away now. He could see the horsemen’s eyes through the slits in their helmets. They were wide and frenzied. Their horses’ mouths were frothing as they whipped them on.

“Now!” Ereldred cried.

Moments later, a blinding flash of light came from next to Artek, causing him to see stars even though he hadn’t been looking at the source. The horses and their riders, however, had. Several horses were so startled that they stumbled, tripping those behind them.

The men of the Vermillion Company had been waiting for the flash and broke ranks as soon as it came. Displaying remarkable agility, they sidestepped the horses and hauled down or hacked at their blinded riders as they charged past blindly.

Artek, however, was incensed that he hadn’t been warned and stood his ground as an enormous horse bore down on him. Its rider had raised his hands instinctively to protect his eyes. Letting out a defiant roar, Artek swung his sword with all his might. He felt a brief surge of ecstasy as his sword bit into the creature’s neck, lopping its head off in a clean stroke. The beast perished instantly. However, its momentum caused it to crash into Artek, pinning him under its immense weight.

“Well done, you idiot!” he heard Erini cry in exasperation.

The battle raged around him, and something primal in Artek was screaming to be unleashed, but to his frustration, he was stuck fast. Eventually, the sounds of battle began to fade, and all he’d seen of the fight was the clear blue sky above as he lay trapped under the weight of the horse. Then, Stediun appeared, standing over him with a puzzled look on his face.

“I don’t understand how you’re still alive,” he remarked.

Artek looked down and frowned. He was pinned under the horse’s chest, but he seemed to be having no problem breathing. Rather, he felt no discomfort at all.

“Do you think you could help me out instead of standing there making snide remarks?” Artek ventured.

A brief look crossed the older man’s face that sent a shudder down Artek’s spine. He tried to move his arm to lift the horse off him, but it was impossible. He saw the muscular man’s grip tighten around the hilt of his bloodied sword and was about to call for help when he heard a melodious voice call out.

“You have been very foolish,” Ereldred admonished as he walked over. “Stediun, see if you can get a few men to help you free him.”

“I’ve seen dozens of men die from being trapped like that,” the Company’s second in command remarked without budging. “And they were protected by plate armour. Yet there he lies, seemingly in no discomfort at all.”

“It is the power of the sword,” Ereldred replied. “For better or worse, it has chosen him as its wielder.”

Stediun opened his mouth to speak but the elf cut him off. “I have made my decision on him, lieutenant.”

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The grey haired man set his mouth in a thin line. He then turned his gaze to someone who was standing just out of Artek’s limited field of vision. “Lady Erini, some help, if you please.”

Erini stepped into view and cast a nervous glance at Artek, who wondered who she had alerted to his predicament. Stediun, or Ereldred. She began chanting in a language Artek didn’t understand before touching the older man’s shoulder as he crouched down over the horse. Stediun took a deep breath and got his hands underneath the horse’s back.

“You’re going to do it yourself?” Artek asked incredulously. “You’ll hurt yourself. Get some help.”

“I wouldn’t distract them,” Ereldred advised as he looked around briefly. “The battle is dying down, but it is still ongoing.”

Stediun’s face turned beet red, and he grunted as he began to lift. To Artek’s amazement, he felt the weight lift from his chest.

“Slide out, if you would,” Ereldred said.

Clutching his sword tight, Artek wriggled loose and scrambled to his feet. He gave himself a quick once over and was amazed to find that he wasn’t injured. Moments later, Stediun released the dead horse and it dropped to the ground with a resounding thud. He looked around and saw dead men and horses scattered around the surrounding countryside, none of the dead were wearing red. In the distance, two horsemen were riding hard, back the way they came.

“What now, Captain?” Stediun ventured. “Do we pursue them back to their lord and deal with them in one fell swoop?”

Ereldred shook his head. “I will report Lord Filern’s latest indiscretion to the Council. They can add it to his list of misdeeds.”

“But Captain,” Stediun protested. “Lord Filern has taken up arms against us.”

“We have bigger fish to fry, as your people say, lieutenant,” the elf replied evenly. “Lord Filern will be dealt with in due course.”

“Captain, Lord Filern’s crime is serious,” Stediun pressed. “We should not overlook it.”

“I understand your desire for revenge,” Ereldred said as he sheathed his sword. “But try to take the long term view. Ready the men for immediate departure. We have wasted enough time as it is.”

Artek understood Stediun’s frustration well. Erini too, looked incensed by the Captain’s decision, but both didn’t press the matter any further. Miraculously, no one had been wounded in the fight and the men quickly assembled. They were soon marching again. The blood of their enemies wasn’t visible on their crimson cloaks at first glance and Artek felt as though the entire ambush might have been a passing daydream.

“You’ve brought considerable shame on the Lieutenant with that display back there,” Erini remarked at length.

“Eh?” Artek asked.

“If you were his official student, he might well have slit his belly,” she continued.

That caught Artek off guard. “Is that a thing nobles do?”

“Apparently, it is something the nobility of Rilern do when they feel they have besmirched their honour,” she shrugged.

“Never heard of the place,” Artek replied. “But they’re a bunch of lunatics if it’s true.”

“I think it’s admirable to place that much stock in your honour,” Erini remarked. “It’s a trait your lord Filern is severely deficient in. Can you believe it? For a noble to even think of raising arms against us, and in an ambush no less!”

“Filern’s no lord of mine,” Artek snorted.

“Of course he is. The lord of a province is the centre of his people’s lives,” Erini insisted, reciting a verse from the Holy Book. “And so, a lord is key to shaping his people’s hearts… I suppose it’s no surprise that such a twisted lord has cultivated such a twisted people.”

“A lord indeed shapes his people in the same way a parent shapes their child,” Stediun said as fell in step beside the pair. “However, we are not our parents and peasants are not their lords. The most beautiful flower may bloom from even the most cursed soil.”

He paused and looked pointedly at the young woman. “I thought you of all people would understand that, Lady Erini.”

The young woman’s face fell. “I am sorry, Lord Stediun, I spoke out of turn.”

“I am not the one you should be apologizing to,” the old man remarked.

She turned to Artek, who gave her a smug, expectant grin. At length, she managed to choke out the words, “I apologize for making assumptions.”

“I accept your apology,” Artek said, deciding that being magnanimous would be the best way to twist the knife.

Erini gave him a mean look and quickly turned her attention back to the Lieutenant. There was a weariness to him as he marched along, his shoulders were slumped, and his breathing was heavy.

“Are you alright, My Lord?” she asked.

“Just feeling my age a little,” he replied with a weary smile. “Perhaps lifting the horse was pushing my boundaries a little too far.”

“We could have left him under there for a little longer,” Erini remarked. “And asked someone else to do the heavy lifting.”

“I’m afraid my pride got in the way of the mission, My Lady,” Stediun said with a sheepish smile. “I’m the oldest human in the Vermillion Company by a good margin.”

“Oh, but you’re still leaving men half your age in the dust, Lord Stediun!” Erini protested.

“I know my body well,” the old man said with a shake of his head. “The Captain does not understand the age of we humans well, but he has pulled me aside to speak about my fitness a few times already. I fear this may be my last campaign.”

“The Company will be worse off for it,” Erini said sadly. “If you like, I could interject on your behalf.”

Stediun smiled and shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but you know what the Captain is like when he’s made his mind up. Do not fear, my wife will be delighted.”

He paused and frowned as they crested a hill and the village of Drendire came into view. It was a small cluster of mud bricked buildings surrounded by fields at the heart of a valley. The village still bore the scars of the recent battle. Several of the fields were still muddy quagmires from when they were churned up by cavalry charges and two of the homes along the edge of the village were still burnt out ruins.

“With luck, we can cripple the Peace Breakers once and for all here,” Stediun remarked grimly.

As the fifty men of the Vermillion Company marched down the rise, people began to gather in the village.

“Raise the banners!” Ereldred called from the head of the procession. “Don your masks!”

“Aren’t we going to wait for the others?” Stediun shouted back from the rear.

“No,” Ereldred replied. “We have enough men to secure the village. Speed is of the essence.”

Artek’s eyes widened in surprise and horror as Erini pulled a mask made out of pure white wood from her cloak and used it to cover her face. The mask was carved into an emotionless, androgynous face, and either by magic or by some unknown craft, the eye sockets burned red once she put it on, obscuring her eyes. It was a mask all the Faithful knew well, and seeing it froze Artek’s blood.

“You’re Inquisitors,” he gasped.