Dirty stone tiles embedded within the ground marked the path forward as Marcellan continued his patrol. The stone tiles formed a path that led around the entirety of the residence in the centre of a walled compound. Long ago, Marcellan guessed, the compound would have been beautiful. Now though, where ever he looked, he only saw neglect. The tiles had not been cleaned in some time and every plant was either dead, shrunken or brown. A water feature built into the wall in the shape of a small fountain was covered in mould and grime. Weeds grew in abundance and climbed the otherwise featureless walls of the compound, giving the whole place the feel of a ruin. Despite this, the residence appeared to be in a relatively good state, at least judging by what he could tell from the outside. The residence itself was a building of moderate size and mostly built from timber. He had been told by Lord Rhudan that these compounds served as a temporarily home for a family of nobles and their retainers and servants for the duration of their visits to the capital. Unfortunately, these compounds had been left vacant and practically abandoned since the time of the Great Traitor’s rule of Atahlan, the capital city of the Revaryn Empire. The unrest and uncertainty of his rule and subsequent fall had been significant and none had dared to visit willingly until now.
Ahead and further down the tiled path, Marcellan continued on and followed as it turned left and made its way behind the rear section of the residence. In the corner of his eye, he spotted something irregular at the base of the wall. He paused and took a closer look at the weeds that had overgrown this section of the wall. He used a gloved hand to pull away some of the stubborn, vine like growth and was surprised to discover an old door. He continued to brush away the green growth with renewed vigour, until the entirety of the door was revealed to him. The door was built from thickly cut timber and reinforced with steel bands that ran horizontally across the frame. If he were to guess, Marcellan suspected that the door had been constructed with Greystone oak, a timber famous for its strength and durability. He only recognized the timber due to the fact that he was from Erorah Province, a coastal province which often constructed its sea faring vessels with the same high-quality timber. At first glance, the sturdy door seemed to be in good condition, but upon closer inspection, Marcellan noticed that the lock was broken. He pushed open the door which gave way rather easily, and peered out through the other side. An empty alleyway greeted him, as well as the walls of several other compounds. Shrugging his shoulders, he closed the old door once again.
He knew that without a lock, the door was a security threat he could not ignore. He inspected the lock again and realized that the mechanism was missing completely. He looked down and spotted what remained of the mechanism, which now lay upon the ground amongst the weeds. It must have been what caught my eye in the first place, he thought to himself. I wonder if it can be fixed. He bent down and got a closer look. It wasn’t rusted through as he suspected, but smashed to pieces.
Marcellan narrowed his eyes. Why had it been smashed?
“Captain!” A voice called out to him. “Captain, there you are!”
Marcellan rose to his feet and turned to greet the voices, still holding the smashed mechanism in his hand. The two men who approached were familiar to him. The one who had called out to him was Jonil, a younger man who had only recently joined the household guard. The other was Otten, a veteran of many years of service to Lord Rhudan and the Duwell family. Both were clad in mailed gambeson and armed with swords at their hips. As they came closer, their eyes became fixed on the mechanism still in his hand.
“What is that in your hand Captain?” Jonil asked.
“A broken lock.” He replied candidly.
“A lock for what?”
“Can you not see the doorway right there Jonil?” Otten said with a disappointed shake of the head. “Use your eyes, young one. Preferably before you use that tongue of yours.”
“Oh, right.” Jonil said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “What are we going to do about it?”
“We can’t leave this way into the compound unsecured.” Marcellan said. “That means someone will have to stand guard here until we have it fixed.”
Both Marcellan and Otten eyed the younger man at the same time. It didn’t take him long for the realisation to dawn upon him. Jonil let out a sigh and lowered his head.
“At least post me here with someone else Captain! Otherwise, I’m sure to lose my wits sitting back here by myself.”
“Very well Jonil, if you can find someone willing to share your post, they may join you.” He said sternly. “Better hurry though, I want this door guarded by the time Lord Rhudan arrives and not a moment after, understood?”
The young man smiled and nodded his head appreciatively. He then bowed as was custom when excusing oneself from his superior and made off at a jog in his quest to find another to share in his new responsibility. Left alone, Marcellan turned his attention to Otten, who gestured for them to begin the long walk back to the front of the residence.
When they arrived, they were greeted by the majority of the household guard, a number of around twenty men in total. The rest he knew would be guarding the compound’s supposed only entrance, the main gate that let out onto the streets of the capital. Marcellan was surprised to see several of his men emerge from within the residence escorting others whom he did not recognise. There was about a dozen of them, their clothes torn and dirtied. They kept their heads low as the household guard led them outside.
“Who are these people?” Marcellan asked aloud.
“Squatters, Captain.” One of the men escorting them explained.
“How long have they been here?” He asked with a heavy sigh. If the condition of the squatters was anything to go by, then the building must be a complete mess.
“It cannot have been long my lord; the interior looks no worse for wear. I suspect a few days at most.”
“That’s a relief.” Otten said, addressing the household guard directly. “Have them thrown out at once.”
“A moment, Otten.” Marcellan said, stepping forward. “Have them fed and give them some water first. There is no need to add to their misfortune.”
Otten grumbled but said no more as the men followed his orders. Marcellan knew that Otten was not pleased with the decision, but he was the captain and his orders were final. Marcellan’s promotion to Captain had put him at odds with the older veteran, and he knew that most of the household guard expected that it would be Otten, not Marcellan, who would become captain in the wake of the retirement of the previous captain. It had taken getting some used to, and winning the respect of the older, more experienced in the household guard would not be easy.
“Otten, organise a detail to make certain the residence is up to standard for Lord Rhudan’s arrival.”
Otten raised an eyebrow. “You mean, clean? I am not a servant and nor are any of the men.”
“I understand, but we must make do. The servants will not arrive until Lord Rhudan does.” He explained loudly enough for everyone to hear. “How do you think our lord will react if he knows we’ve been here twiddling our thumbs while there is work to be done?”
Otten shook his head and said something he didn’t quite catch. The old veteran stared at him, a look of defiance and arrogance crept upon his face. For a moment, Marcellan feared he would refuse his command outright. He felt the anger soothing within Otten as he began sizing him up, and he could feel the tension building amongst the others who watched on in silence, waiting to see what would happen next. The older man however, whether because he did not want to cause a scene, or because he saw the reasoning behind it, acquiesced and asked for volunteers for his new task. When no one else was looking, Marcellan let out a sigh of relief. Even though the veterans amongst the household guard were prideful and at times, boastful, he knew the best way to win their respect as their captain was not to second guess himself. When he gave orders, it was imperative to make sure they would be fulfilled. He hoped that they would respect him eventually even if they didn’t grow to like him.
Marcellan’s reputation amongst the younger members was far better and his age was closer to theirs than it was the older veterans. Unlike them, he found giving them orders easy and more natural, as most of them looked up to him for leadership and direction even before he was named captain. A fact which he believed played a more significant part in his appointment than the older veterans realised, as they treated the younger with little respect and often made jokes at their expense whenever the opportunity arose.
With his inspection of the compound complete and orders given to his men, Marcellan busied himself with the matter of the broken door. He ordered one of his men to head out into the city in search of a smith to fix the locking mechanism and to bring them back to the compound. While he waited, he focused on matters of supply. In the corner of the compound his men had been stacking crates of food and other supplies that they had brought with them from Erorah Province, the land which Lord Rhudan was responsible for ruling. Much of the food was varying species of fish and other seafood as Erorah was a coastal province. To people from Erorah, fish was a staple food enjoyed by both noble and commoner alike. For the next few hours Marcellan made sure everything was accounted for and in its place.
When the smith arrived, Marcellan dropped what he was doing and immediately took him to the broken door. Jonil stood guard alone. Apparently, he had been unable to convince any of his fellow guardsmen to share his duty. To Marcellan and Jonil’s relief, the smith agreed to fix the door, but advised that he could not simply repair the mechanism as it was too badly damaged. The smith agreed that he would return sometime tomorrow with a completely new mechanism, one that would he touted would be stronger than the previous one. Marcellan paid the smith in full with a little bit extra as an incentive to be speedy and then sent the man on his way. Satisfied that the door would be secure, Marcellan decided to check on Otten and see how the clean up was going inside the residence, but before he could head inside, he was notified that Lord Rhudan had arrived. Hoping that Otten and his men had done a decent enough job of cleaning up after the squatters, he headed toward the gate to welcome his lord.
Marcellan jogged through the open gate and spotted the carriage at the base of the steps out on the streets. It was a familiar sight for him as he had spent the journey from Erorah riding alongside it, protecting it and those inside from any threats as they made their way to the capital. He was impressed to see that the household guards stationed here were all standing at attention in formation. As he made his way to the carriage, his men acknowledged his presence with a respectful nod of the head. Lord Rhudan’s servants, most of whom had travelled with them from Donhaven, were standing all around the carriage and waiting for their lord to emerge and give them orders.
Marcellan managed to get to the door of the carriage just as it began to open from the inside. The faces of two young and excitable boys greeted him. The twins were mirror images of both each other and their father, and before Marcellan could react, the two of them burst out from the carriage and almost knocked him from his feet. The boys jumped from the carriage and landed onto the steps in one motion. Immediately they began to argue about which part of the city they were in.
Lord Rhudan’s deep and rumbling voice called his name, pulling his attention back to the carriage. His lord was a portly man, almost as wide as the doors he was climbing out of. Marcellan quickly moved to assist him by offering his arm as support. When Lord Rhudan was safely helped to solid ground, he mumbled his thanks, but Marcellan could barely hear him over the raucous behaviour of the twins. Rhudan shook his head and then swore at the twins until they stopped arguing.
“My lord.” He said. “We did not expect you so soon. Is everything well?”
“Ahh Marcellan, it is fortunate I had you come here instead of with me to the palace.” Lord Rhudan said, his voice full of frustration. “That bastard wouldn’t even see us! And after we came all the way from Erorah at his request no less!”
“Dear brother, Erorah Province is perhaps one of the closest regions to the capital as one can get.” A woman’s voice teased from within the carriage.
“Let me rant as is my want, sister. You cannot deny Lord Valehran’s behaviour is still unbecoming and simply rude.” Lord Rhudan countered. “Marcellan, help my sister out of the carriage, will you?”
Marcellan moved to assist just as he had with Lord Rhudan, but his sister was far nimbler than he and stepped out without difficulty. The middle-aged woman hadn’t needed his help, but she nodded her head appreciatively in his direction all the same.
Lord Rhudan and his sister Sariah were both of the Duwell family, but Sariah had married and become Lady Edderfield, living the majority of her life on the other side of the empire in Greystone Province. Marcellan had never seen her until only recently when she appeared one night some weeks ago in Donhaven, the capital of Erorah Province and the seat of Lord Rhudan Duwell. Since then, she had accompanied her brother everywhere and Marcellan had been ordered to treat her safety as seriously as Lord Rhudan and his twin sons. Ensuring the safety of so many was difficult in one’s own land, but here in the capital it was a significant challenge.
“My lord.” Marcellan said. “How long will we be staying in the capital?”
“I’ve no idea Marcellan, but I do not plan to stay a moment longer than necessary.” Rhudan said as he scratched at his thick beard. “As soon as we meet with Lord Valehran and show that we are no threat to his new order, we will make for Donhaven.”
Lady Edderfield shook her head. “I’ve already told you how dangerous Valehran is brother. We should not have come to the Atahlan. The letters—”
“Quiet Sariah!” Rhudan snapped. “We will not argue publicly. Nor in front of the boys.”
Lady Edderfield, to her credit, held her tongue. Marcellan could see plainly however that she had no intention of remaining quiet for long. Arming herself with a smile that he guessed was not genuine, she bowed her head politely and followed her brother up the steps and through the gate. Marcellan hurried after them and spotted Otten emerging from the residence.
“Otten, report!” Marcellan commanded.
The older veteran walked up to Lord Rhudan and bowed his head respectfully. Marcellan noted that Otten hadn’t even spared him a glance. “My lord, squatters had taken refuge within your residence, but we had them thrown out. Captain Marcellan has also had us working to restore the dignity of your domain before your arrival.”
“Squatters you say? The capital has certainly fallen from grace of late. Any idea how they got in?”
“…There is a back door.” Marcellan chimed in. “The lock was smashed to pieces. I already have a smith forging a replacement.”
“Excellent work as always Marcellan. I hope the residence has not been too badly affected by its temporary occupants. I haven’t been back here for years you know. Not since well before the Great Traitor’s time, but I do remember the inside being particularly beautiful.”
“I dare not speak for your standards my lord.” Otten said. “But I would consider it liveable.”
“Very well, very well. Have the servants prepare meals my evening meal. I cannot wait to be off of my feet.”
“You’ve been sat inside the carriage the entire day brother.” Lady Edderfield said harshly.
“That simply isn’t true dear sister. The steps up to the palace were quite taxing.”
Lady Edderfield rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You can tell the servants I’ll not be needing a meal this evening and that I’d prefer to be left in peace. Now can someone show to me to where I’ll be quartering?”
Lord Rhudan eyed Otten and then gestured for him to do as his sister had asked. The older veteran acknowledged the command with a bow of his head and then asked Lady Edderfield to follow him. After the two had disappeared inside the residence, Lord Rhudan turned to Marcellan and sighed loudly.
“That sister of mine… First, she spends the majority of the journey to Atahlan telling me to be wary of Lord Valehran, as though she is the only one who knows man is dangerous, and now she argues with me publicly and makes me look like I cannot control my own household. Those boys of mine are bad enough but when your own sister treats you like a fool, people may begin to whisper.”
“Lady Edderfield did seem awfully concerned.” Marcellan said. “Perhaps her words are worth considering?”
‘Not you too Marcellan…” Lord Rhudan sighed with frustration. “I will tell you what I’ve told her countless times. Listen to me. Lord Valehran is the most powerful lord in the whole empire. When the Great Traitor was in power, he was the one who formed and led the Coalition of Lords and ousted him. When the Coalition collapsed due to internal bickering, it was he who came out of it with the most land and the biggest armies. With the Emperor under his protection, his personal army has become the imperial army. Any orders he gives can now be disguised as that of the emperor’s will. Refusing him then, in essence, means refusing the emperor as well. If I refused to come to the capital and swear fealty as my sister wants, how long do you think it would be until I am named traitor and an army is sent to crush Erorah Province, which lays so close to the capital?”
Marcellan did not know how to respond to his lord’s words. He could see why Lord Rhudan felt as strongly as he did, but it was also obvious to him that he had spent a great amount of time thinking about the matter. Marcellan felt he needed some time to think on it before coming to an opinion so quickly.
As he continued to ponder them, Lord Rhudan gestured for him to follow as they headed toward the large door that led inside the residence. Two household guard opened the way for them as entered. Almost immediately Marcellan felt the dust in the air. Thanks to Otten and the others, he could see the dust as well. They had opened every window they could find and the streams of light showed dust wherever they looked. Lord Rhudan however, seemed unbothered and was caught up in his explanation. Marcellan kept quiet and followed along, listening as his lord continued to talk.
“He has more fighting men than we do people in our entire province, Marcellan… and you know better than most that our own forces are small and insufficient for battle. The peasants are mostly fishermen, not warriors. That is why I believe the best chance for peace is to appear subservient and stay well out of the politics of Atahlan. This was my strategy with the Great Traitor, and it will be the same with Valehran. My sister is not thinking with logic but emotion. It has clearly clouded her judgement.”
“Emotion? I do not understand my lord.” He said. “What do Lady Edderfield’s emotions have to do with this?”
“A letter arrived from her son before we set out. Her husband, Lord Corrhen Edderfield of Greystone Province, was killed on his way home after the Coalition of Lords collapsed. She believes Lord Corrhen’s death was orchestrated by none other than Lord Valehran.” Lord Rhudan sighed. “Even if this is true, nothing changes. If anything, it is simply another example of how ruthless the man is. The faster we do as he has asked and slink away back to Donhaven and Erorah Province, the better. Do you not agree?”
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
“Her husband was killed?” Marcellan said, following Lord Rhudan into the dining room. “What happened to him?”
“An ambush apparently. Lord Elentide of Edheren Province did the foul deed.” Lord Rhudan said as he took a seat at the head of the ornate wooden table. “The letters however, claim that Lord Elentide was merely incited by Lord Valehran.”
Marcellan lowered his head in thought. Everything his lord had said made sense in his mind considering what they knew. It was true that there was little they could do against Valehran. Lord Rhudan’s strategy of staying out of politics and laying low was logical. That did not mean Lady Edderfield’s concerns were not valid however.
“My lord, I understand all that you have said, but what Lady Edderfield might need right now is your support, not logic and facts.” He explained. “She may just need some time to mourn her late husband. Time might see her understand your point of view.”
Lord Rhudan sighed and nodded his head. “I think you may be right Marcellan. Whenever someone argues with me, I always lose control and let my temper get the best of me. Especially when I know that I am right. But still, you make a fair point. What my sister needs is support and comfort, not the angry words of her arrogant brother. You are a wiser man than I first believed.”
“I am honoured you think so, my lord. Thank you.” Marcellan said with a polite bow of his head.
“Do not thank me just yet Marcellan.” Lord Rhudan said. “I have a task for you.”
“My lord?”
Before Rhudan had the chance to elaborate, several servants entered the room carrying various plates of food. Fresh fruits, bread, grapes and smaller servings of salted meats made up much of the one-person feast and were spread around the table spaciously. Another servant produced a bottle of wine which Marcellan guessed was Vinum Province stock judging by the bottle itself. He also noticed that space was deliberately left in the centre of the table, and he saw Lord Rhudan’s eyes widen when that space was filled by a plate of smoked salmon. He felt his stomach growl as the many scents filled the dining room. He had not eaten since breaking his morning fast due to how busy he had been. After completing whatever task Lord Rhudan had for him, he would have to visit the kitchens for himself.
“My lord, what task are you speaking of?”
“Oh, my apologies Marcellan.” Lord Rhudan said, not bothering to take his eyes of the food as he began to stuff his face with one of everything. “I agree with what you said before, about my sister needing support and comfort, but I always let my temper get the best of me. Therefore, I want you to console her for me.”
“Me, my lord? Are you sure?”
“Yes, you, and no you cannot change my mind. If I go see her, we’ll just end up shouting at each other again.” Lord Rhudan said as he reached for the bottle of wine. “Check up on her, make sure she is alright, then report back to me.”
Marcellan did his best to supress a sigh, but Lord Rhudan looked at him and raised an eyebrow, prompting him to immediately bow his head and acknowledge the order. He promised he would do as he was commanded and left the room, happy to be away from the delicious scents of food he could not eat. He wasn’t happy about his task. He barely knew Lady Edderfield, but the sooner he completed his task, the sooner he could relax and find something to eat and drink. He made his way down the long hallway which was obviously once decorated with paintings. Only patches of different coloured wall now hinted at where they were once placed. Other than that, the residence seemed to be in decent condition. The squatters hadn’t done much damage. Before long, came across a single household guard who indicated the room Lady Edderfield had claimed as her own. He nodded his thanks and knocked on the door.
As he waited for the door to open, Lady Edderfield’s final words before departing came to him. She wanted to be left in peace… A strong feeling of unease came over him, but when he heard footsteps on the other side of the door and then a click of the lock, he swallowed it down and tried to smile. The door opened and Lady Edderfield, a woman of middle age and strong features greeted him. Where her brother was portly, she was tall and slim. Her eyes indicated an intelligence he had not seen in many, and thankfully, there was no anger in them either.
“Marcellan? Is everything okay?” She asked quietly.
“Yes, Lady Edderfield. Forgive my intrusion. May I speak with you?”
Lady Edderfield stepped back and let the door open wide enough for him to come in. She then gestured for him to follow as she turned around and took a seat by a small reading desk in the corner of the room that sat next to an open window. The window was large and a pleasant breeze flowed through the room. Marcellan did as he was told and walked through the doorway. He kept his head down and looked around the room, doing his best to avoid looking directly at the woman’s whose privacy he was being forced to invade. The room was mostly bare of any decorations or finery, though the furnishings were of an exquisite quality. He was surprised of the relatively decent condition everything was in considering the building had been occupied by squatters.
“I apologise for my sudden appearance, Lady Edderfield, but Lord Rhudan wanted me to check up on you.”
“That is sweet of you.” She said warmly. “And typical of my brother.”
Marcellan didn’t know what he was supposed to say to her. She wasn’t his sister, and in truth he barely knew her. He had been raised with the belief that it was not proper to discuss the personal or private matters of another without being invited to do so first. An uncomfortable silence took hold with only the faint sound of the breeze coming through the window to break it.
“Well, Marcellan, I would say that you have completed your duty here. I’d say that relieves you of your responsibility.” She said. “You may leave if you wish.”
He nodded and felt a wave of relief come upon him. He then made for the open doorway, but something gave him pause. He lingered in the doorway and turned his head back. He couldn’t say why he stopped, other than he felt both a duty and desire to comfort the older woman. He turned around and headed back inside the room. I’m sworn to serve the Duwell family. Lady Edderfield is a Duwell by blood, am I not also bound to serve her then too?
“My lady.” Marcellan said, noticing that she had something crumpled up within her hand. “Is that the letter from your son?”
Sariah turned away from the window and smiled weakly, then nodded. “The latest I have received from him, yes. Though it is quite old now. I haven’t heard from him for some time. He has not responded to the last two I have written him.”
The slow and ponderous way she spoke, and the look in her eyes all but told him how she was feeling. Her hands gripped the rolled-up letter tightly and her posture was stiff and uncomfortable.
“We have been away from Erorah for many days my lady. It is entirely possible that more of your son’s letters arrived after we departed.”
“That is true, it is also entirely possible that my letters never made it to him in the first place. Greystone Province is a long way from here, and the roads are dangerous.” She said as she let out a sigh. “I also suppose it is possible he has not written back to me.”
“I’m sure his thoughts are with you, no matter the circumstances.”
“I’m not so sure about that Marcellan. You see, after my husband departed to join up with the Coalition of Lords to defeat the Great Traitor, Kaewyn begged me to stay with him and support him, but instead I ignored him and rushed to Erorah to see my family again. I do not think he forgives me for abandoning him the way I did.” Sariah said as she closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m not sure that I forgive myself either.”
“Did he seem upset or angry with you in that letter you have there?” He asked.
“…No.”
“Then I wouldn’t worry too much, my lady.” He continued. “My mother always said that there is no point in worrying about something you think might be. Once you find out for certain, then you can worry and fret, anything else an unnecessary burden on yourself.”
Sariah nodded her head and chuckled softly. “A wise woman, your mother. I have said something similar to that to my son on many occasions.”
“Your son…” He said.
“Kaewyn.” She finished for him.
“Kaewyn. What is he like? When you first arrived, I’ll admit my curiosity got the better of me and I asked Lord Rhudan about him, but he told me he has never met him.”
Sariah’s face lit up. She looked again at the crumpled parchment in her hand and smiled once again. “A brilliant boy. His mind is as sharp as a freshly forged blade. My husband Corrhen liked to think himself an intelligent man, and he was one at that, but even still he sometimes struggled to keep up with Kaewyn on his day. The gods however, love to play their games. As bright as he is, he is equally lazy and quite happy to simply sit in his chambers and read books all day.”
“Perhaps he will grow of out it.” Marcellan said. “After all, he is only a boy.”
Sariah eyed him quizzically, then shook her head in realisation. “Forgive the way a mother speaks of her child, Marcellan, for he is no boy. He is perhaps a few years your junior, a young man, but a man still.”
“I see.” He said. “Well then, if he is as bright as you say my lady, then I am sure he will rise to the challenge.”
“I do not doubt his capability, but he still needs my support.” Sariah said as her voice began to waver. “He begged me to stay with him, but I thought of nothing but myself. I hadn’t been back to Erorah since I was married to Corrhen twenty something years ago. I missed my brother and the rest of family so much, I just had to see them again.”
Marcellan could tell by the way her body had become tense and the way her voice threatened to break that she was incredibly distraught. He did not know how to console her with words, so instead, he listened.
“I do not regret seeing my family again after all this time. It has been wonderous to see my brother again, and to visit where my parents now lie.” She smiled bitterly. “Meeting the twins has warmed my heart, but I have been incredibly selfish.”
Marcellan smiled. “Those two are a handful. I am sure Lord Rhudan appreciates you being in their lives.”
“He wants more than that, Marcellan. My brother has told me that he wants me to help him raise the boys.”
“Raise them?” He asked. “Like a mother?”
Lady Edderfield nodded and then sighed. “I refused him. And in doing so I think I have hurt my brother deeply. I know it has been difficult for him since losing his wife, but my duty is to Kaewyn, not the twins. I hope in time, he can understand that.”
“You mean to return then, to Greystone Province?”
“I do.” Lady Edderfield said with a grim determination.
“But my lady, surely you know the journey would be much too dangerous.”
“I made the trip once already Marcellan and I yet live. Besides, it is plenty dangerous here as well. My brother may not wish to heed my words about how dangerous Lord Valehran is, but that does not make them any less true. If my son says he is responsible for my husband’s death, then I must believe him.”
“As Captain of Lord Rhudan’s household guard, I am responsible for the safety of both he and his family, including you, my lady.” Marcellan explained. “It pains me to hear that you do not feel safe here. I assure you the household guard is well trained and committed to your safety. I have walked the compound in its entirety and posted guards everywhere. I do hope we have your trust.”
“Unfortunately, is it not as simple as a matter of trust.” Lady Edderfield said with a sad smile.
A distant shout from outside the open window interrupted them, causing Marcellan to stiffen and listen intently. After a few moments of silence, he let out a sigh of relief, only for another, clearer shout to get his attention. His instincts took over as he told Lady Edderfield to close the window and lock her door behind him after he left. He then rushed down the hallway and heard further shouting from outside. It only took him a few seconds to make it to the dining hall where he had left Lord Rhudan.
Lord Rhudan was still seated and held in his hand his cup of wine, still in the middle of feasting, but it was obvious by the look he gave Marcellan that he too, had heard the shouting from outside. Before either of them could speak, Otten burst into the room.
“My lord, a large group of knights with purple cloaks are battering down the gate into the compound!” Otten shouted. “They slew our men standing guard outside without even a word!”
“Purple cloaks…” Lord Rhudan said softly as his eyes stared blankly.
“Will the gate hold?” Marcellan asked as he drew his sword.
Otten shook his head. “They’d already be inside if not for some of the men’s quick thinking. They closed the gate before I could get a word of warning out, but before it did, I saw more men armed with hammers. The gate won’t stand for long.”
Marcellan felt a lump in his throat and a knot forming in his stomach. If he had eaten earlier, he feared he would have been sick. “Gather every man you can find and have them reinforce the gate. If they break through, we won’t have much of a chance.”
“I’ve already sent a man to bring everyone to the gate.”
“It’s not going to make a difference anyway.” Lord Rhudan said with a shake of his head.
“My lord?” Marcellan asked.
“Purple cloaks Marcellan. Those are the Valehran’s knights.”
“But why would Lord Valehran attack us?” Otten said angrily.
“I do not know, but it matters little what his reasons are…” Lord Rhudan sighed. “Sariah was right all along.”
Several servants rushed into the dining hall, their faces were full of fear and panic. Hidden amongst them, the twins emerged and looked at their father with the same fear and panic.
“Marcellan, I have an order for you.” Lord Rhudan said calmly. “Take the boys, take Sariah, and run. Get them somewhere safe.”
“My duty is to protect you, my lord.”
“Your duty is whatever I say it is. Now do as I order and keep them safe from harm!” He said as he lifted his cup to his mouth and downed the wine in one go. “Use the broken back door and flee. As long as my sons and my sister are safe, I can die in peace.”
“You do not have to die. Use the door yourself.” Marcellan pleaded. “There is no shame in fleeing such a cowardly attack!”
“Otten, bring me my sword.” Lord Rhudan said as he stood from his chair. “Marcellan, this is not a matter of shame or foolish pride, but of practicality. If Valehran wants my death, fleeing will only postpone the inevitable. But if my death or capture can give my family a chance of escape, then I do it gladly.”
“But my lord, surely...”
“Go Marcellan, time is not on our side.”
Marcellan shook his head and bit his lip. He watched as Lord Rhudan walked over to his sons and knelt in front of them. There were tears in their eyes as their father whispered something to them. Otten appeared by his lord’s side and handed him his blade, but escorting the twins to where Marcellan still stood.
“Rhen, Rhidgar, listen to Marcellan and do as he says. Keep each other safe, and remember that you are Duwells.” Lord Rhudan said as he gestured for Otten to lead him outside. He cast a final glance back toward his children with a smile. “Ohnix watch over you both.”
With that, Lord Rhudan and Otten left Marcellan and two scared young boys in the dining hall. The servants looked around frantically and began to panic, but Marcellan knew he could afford to waste any time worrying about anyone other than those he had been charged with keeping safe. He sheathed his sword and placed a hand of each of the boy’s shoulders, directing them down the hallway toward Lady Edderfield’s room. ‘
Thankfully, Lady Edderfield had had the sense to know something was wrong and met them in the hallway. The look on her face told Marcellan that she knew what was going on. That her worst fears had been realised. Marcellan handed the twins over to her and then asked her to follow him as he entered one of the unused rooms in the hallway. It was dusty and dark, but the window was large, just as it was in Lady Edderfield’s room. He drew his sword and used the pommel to smash the window, taking a few more seconds to continue breaking any sharp pieces of glass still stuck to the frame. He then gestured for Lady Edderfield to climb through the window, helping her as she did. Marcellan then lifted the twins one at a time until all three were safely outside. He then followed and climbed through as well, quickly looking around for any sign of danger. To both his relief and worry, he saw not a single soul. No knights with purple cloaks coming after them, but no household guardsmen either. Toward the front of the residence, he could hear the clang of steel on steel and the shouts and screams of battle. They’ve broken through. We need to hurry.
“Come, my lady.” Marcellan said. “We can escape through the back door.”
“And what of my brother?” She asked. “Where is Rhudan?”
Marcellan shook his head. “He told me to get you and the twins someplace safe.”
“Safe.” Lady Edderfield said. “Where is safe? Certainly not Erorah Province. Even if we managed to get there, Lord Valehran’s army would be right behind us!”
“Aunt Sariah, where is father?” Rhidgar asked on the verge of tears. “I’m scared.”
“Remember what father told us.” Rhen said, sounding much braver than his twin. “We must keep each other safe.”
“I know darlings.” Lady Edderfield said as he knelt down and smiled. “Captain Marcellan will keep us safe; we just have to do as he says, okay?”
The twins nodded, seemingly comforted by the words of their aunt. Lady Edderfield looked back to Marcellan for an answer.
“Then… perhaps we make for Greystone Province. You can ask your son Kaewyn to take us in?”
“It is a long journey, but with some luck, Valehran will be searching for us in Erorah.” She explained. “But first we must escape the capital.”
Marcellan nodded and jogged toward the rear of the residence with his sword in hand. Lady Edderfield, still holding onto the twins by their shoulders, followed as quickly as she could, but her long dress and the twin’s smaller legs made it difficult for them all to keep up with him. He slowed his hurried pace for them, painfully aware that every second would count in their race to escape the compound. He only hoped Jonil would be there waiting for them just around the corner.
They passed the mould covered fountain built into the side of the wall that he had first seen during his initial patrol. We’re close! Marcellan increased his pace and called out for Jonil, but as he came to the corner and stepped around it, what he saw nearly caused him to retch. The young man whom he had known as Jonil lay lifeless upon the cracked tiles, his blood had spread out and seeped through the narrow depressions between each tile. Marcellan saw that Jonil’s blade had not been drawn from its sheath.
Standing above the body were three large men. They were heavily armoured and wore purple cloaks. When they saw him, their hard expressions gave way to sickening, predatory smiles. Without a word between them, each knight looked at each other and made inaudible sounds and odd expressions. It was only when one of them nodded his head and stepped over Jonil’s body toward him, that he knew what they had meant.
The knight was armed with a blade similar to his own in both design and length. Thankfully for Marcellan, he had spent a great deal of time and energy training to fight an enemy such as this. The knight let out a roar and charged him and swung his blade wildly. Rather than parry the blow directly, Marcellan sidestepped and allowed the knight’s momentum to carry him right past him, opening his opponent up to an attack of his own. He brought his blade up and diagonally, but the knight’s armour protected him from any significant harm. The knight then turned around and attacked again, but his footwork was clumsy and awkward. Marcellan again, sidestepped and this time, he parried his opponent’s blade and then thrust the point of his blade into a gap in his opponent’s armour. The knight screamed out in pain but before he could react, Marcellan tripped him by placing his foot behind the knight and then using his shoulder to smash into him. On the ground and disarmed during the fall, the knight was helpless. Marcellan placed the tip of his blade against the downed knight’s throat and then eyed the other two.
He expected them to be concerned for their comrade, but instead the two knights simply chuckled. Marcellan threatened to kill their companion, but again he was only met with disinterest. Lady Edderfield and the twins appeared behind him and gasped in surprise. Their appearance roused the disinterested knights, who suddenly came alive and drew weapons.
“If you expected to use Helson as a bargain for your life guardsman, then I am afraid you will be disappointed.” A voice called from behind the knights. “But, Lady Edderfield and the sons of Lord Rhudan, well. Perhaps we can work something out after all.”
The man who spoke made his way into sight between the two knights. He too, was armoured, though not nearly as much as the knights. He carried a fine blade at his hip, but the stranger had not yet drawn it. The look on his face was one of pure arrogance and self-importance, but his features were familiar.
“My lord Valehran! Please help me!” The knight at Marcellan’s feet pleaded.
“I told you that is not how it works Helson. I do not become lord until my father passes his title unto me. I simply cannot believe how stupid you can be. Your father begged me to have you knighted, but if you are defeated so easily by a simple guardsman, I suppose your elevation was premature.”
“You are Lord Valehran’s son?” Marcellan asked.
“I am. And you are the son of nobody and nobody, I presume? Listen here, commoner. Hand over Lady Edderfield and the boys to me and I’ll forget I ever saw you.”
Marcellan shook his head. “Let them go free or Helson dies Amatus.”
“Oh, you know my name. And you are a warrior and negotiator too? How quaint.”
“I’m serious.” Marcellan said as he pressed his blade against the throat of the downed knight, causing the man to squirm beneath his feet.
“So am I!” Amatus shouted, then sighed. “Kill this fool.”
The two remaining knights stepped forward. Marcellan hesitated only for a moment, before pushing the end of his blade through Helson’s throat. He was immediately set upon by the two knights as they charged at him and swung their blades. He parried and stepped backwards to give himself some space to manoeuvre, but already he could tell that these two were far better warriors than Helson had been. He continued to walk backwards as they advanced, but close behind him he heard the boys crying and shouting. There’s no more ground to give, I must stand my ground!
Marcellan decided instead to go on the offensive. Rather than parry the next blow, he ducked under and slashed his blade across the chest of one of the knights, but his armour protected him from harm. The other knight attempted to strike him, but he parried the blow easily enough. What he did not expect however, was for the knight to follow through with his shoulder. Marcellan was knocked from his feet and fell backwards into the wall, knocking the wind out of him. Two blades immediately came for him, but he managed to duck again and reposition himself behind the two knights who turned slowly. In that moment, time seemed to slow to a standstill. Beside the knights, he saw Lady Edderfield protectively shielding the twins with her outstretched arms. Those he was sworn to protect were vulnerable, but he knew he had no chance against the two knights together. Behind him, Amatus stood with his weapon sheathed. Marcellan made the decision to gamble and turned around. He rushed the young noble, but when he saw no panic in Amatus’ eyes, he knew that he his gamble was a mistake. Amatus calmly drew his blade and parried Marcellan’s clumsy strike effortlessly, before sidestepping and swinging his blade.
Marcellan felt a sharp searing pain across his stomach. His legs lost their strength and he felt himself fall to his knees. He looked up only to see the grin of Amatus before the young noble’s blade plunged deep into Marcellan’s chest. It was then that he noticed the pain in his stomach had disappeared. He felt a forceful hit to the side of his head. It didn’t hurt, but he did feel his numb body falling. He barely noticed when his limp body smacked into the hard tiles on the ground. Marcellan frantically looked around for any sign of Lady Edderfield and the boys, but he couldn’t move his eyes. Straight ahead, he could only see the body of Jonil beside the door he had been assigned to guard. His vision began to blur, then fade. He could still hear clearly as Lady Edderfield shouted and screamed obscenities at the knights who, at Amatus’ order, took her as prisoner. The boys, Rhen and Rhidgar, both cried and screamed and they too were taken.
“Good idea to wait by the back door Amatus. Your father’s men are busy fighting all the guards while we get the prize!”
“Agreed, to have it broken before these fools even arrived shows foresight and cunning.”
“Two traits my ambivalent father believes I do not possess. If only he would listen to me upon occasion. No matter, we shall deliver our new guests to him. Gods only know if that will improve his disposition.”
Marcellan watched helplessly as the knights dragged Lady Edderfield and the twins kicking and screaming through the very door that was supposed to be their salvation. He tried to move, to help them, but he could no longer feel anything at all. He noticed then that the sounds of fighting had dulled, and the screams of the twins became distorted and difficult to hear. His vision blurred and gave way into an oppressive blackness.