Kaewyn walked briskly through the camp in the middle of the night. Having been awoken only a few minutes ago, his mind and body still suffered the haze and grogginess of one who had just risen. He didn’t mind though. He was in high spirits after his meeting with Camilla. Just knowing that she loved him as much as he loved her helped to power his tired limbs into action. Despite not having had enough rest, he felt like he could run like a horse.
Flanked on either side by General Alaric, Marcus and Arlan, Kaewyn followed the man who had come to them with Rhys’s summons in the darkness of night. According to this messenger, a man who apparently held a trusted position in Rhys’s inner circle, grave news had arrived during the night. Kaewyn and the others hounded the messenger for details as they followed him through the camp and across the empty training fields toward Rhys’s command tent, but to their annoyance, the messenger remained tight lipped. All he revealed to them was that Lord Callidus had sent him to summon them immediately. Normally, Kaewyn knew that his mind would seek to find an answer to what was going on, but instead he found his inner thoughts to be relatively silent. There was no worry, no fear, and certainly no intrusive negative thoughts to eat away at his confidence. Camilla’s declaration of love had soothed his mind and calmed him from his usually persistent and hypothetical thoughts.
When their party arrived outside of Rhys’s command tent, Kaewyn saw a small crowd of men whom he did not recognise. There were no more than half a dozen and most had their faces obscured by hoods. They spoke with hushed voices and quietened when they noticed he and his men approach. They must be Rhys’ men, he thought. His suspicions were confirmed when Rhys emerged from within his tent and gestured for them to enter, his dark and brooding features illuminated by the torches of flame for only an instant before he withdrew inside. Unsure of whether to follow them straight away, Kaewyn stood awkwardly for a moment before Rhys’ man asked them to follow him inside the command tent. He followed the man who went inside, but before going through, he paused and looked back across the camp. He asked General Alaric if Yohren and Sir Darius had been made aware of this emergency late night meeting. The General confirmed that he had sent for them and expected they would arrive shortly. Satisfied with his answer, Kaewyn parted the command tent’s entrance and went inside.
The inside of the tent was bright and lit by nervous looking guards holding torches. Rhys stood on the other side of his map table, his hands resting on it as he leant over the map with a ponderous and concerned look upon his brow. Beside him stood Camilla. She was still wearing her night clothes, but her decency was protected by a long white-green cloak that she wore over her shoulder like a wrap. When she spotted him, she gave him a subtle wink catching him off guard. He tried to wink back without anyone realising but he suspected he had only messed it up. General Falke who stood beside Camilla, looked at him entirely perplexed by his apparent random act. Completely embarrassed, Kaewyn cleared his throat and approached the table, doing his best to pretend it had never happened.
On Rhys’ side of the table stood his advisors and military men, as well as Camilla and General Falke. Rhys gestured for Kaewyn and his men to take positions around the table as well. With everyone present, except for Yohren and Sir Darius, Rhys began his emergency meeting. The Lord of Vinum Province began by explaining to everyone that a messenger had arrived less than half an hour ago with dire news. The messenger had come from Varde Castle under orders of the newest Garrison Commander explaining that the castle’s fall was imminent. Gasps of disbelief and surprise rang out amongst those present, but Kaewyn remained silent and listened on as a tired looking Rhys continued to explain. The previous Garrison Commander had been killed by a barbarian arrow during an assault and since then, morale within the walls had plummeted. Rhys explained further that the supply stores within Varde Castle were critically low due to the Severus army ravaging the lands earlier in the year before being defeated by the Greystone army at the Battle of the Rau. The stores had also been further depleted due to the Vinum army having taken a large portion of it for their campaign to aid Kaewyn during the Battle for Taneby. Just before the barbarian’s arrived to besiege Varde Castle, a large number of peasants had also sought shelter within the walls. With so many to feed and so little to feed them, Varde Castle’s stores were practically empty. They were quickly running out of food. The soldiers holding the walls had already begun to kill and eat their own horses. The new Garrison Commander, inexperienced and young, sent word with the messenger that he was losing control of the men guarding the walls and fears that soon, there will be a mutiny or worse, a surrender.
Many of Rhys’s advisors cried out slurs of cowardice and shame, but Rhys waved them off with a serious look in his eye. Kaewyn could tell that he had no time for useless gestures and overly dramatic speeches. He wanted answers, and he wouldn’t stop to listen until he had told the full story.
Rhys continued to explain that the messenger had told him that when the men on the walls witnessed their earlier defeat at the hands of the barbarians, talks of mutiny turned to openly discussing surrender. Kaewyn saw Rhys’s face sour as he struggled to continue speaking. After pausing for a few moments, He went on to explain through gritted teeth and barely contained rage, that these potentially mutinous men had begun to openly discuss using his pregnant wife Alina as a bargaining tool to ensure their safe passage and freedom after their proposed surrender. Rhys slammed his fist down onto the table, causing several present to jump back in fright. He demanded that they come up with a plan immediately to alleviate the siege and defeat the barbarians before Varde Castle’s fall.
When no one spoke up, Rhys looked around the tent with the eyes of a madman. He claimed that he had been cursed to be served by no one but fools and then balled his hands into fists. Camilla placed her hand on his shoulder and whispered something into his ear. Kaewyn expected him to retaliate for her kind and caring gesture, but instead he took a deep breath and then asked for suggestions, this time more calmly.
General Falke broke the silence by asking how long Varde could hold if they were to do nothing. Rhys told him that the Garrison Commander said that he could only count on a few dozen loyal men and that the rest were barely under his control. General Falke grimaced and shook his head. Another advisor, the man who had led Kaewyn and his men to the command tent, suggested they ask for reinforcements from Oscua Province and Tavian Severus. All eyes turned to Kaewyn who shook his head. It had come time for him to speak, and so cleared his throat and spoke as clearly as he could.
He explained that Tavian had already made it known that he was unable to help as he was still in the process of ensuring he controlled the entirely of the newly conquered Oscua Province. Rhys let out a groan of displeasure before asking if Greystone could spare any more troops, but Marcus interjected, claiming that even if Seneschal Talbury back in Greystone Province were to send more men, it would be days, perhaps even a week before they would arrive. Considering the situation inside of Varde Castle, they would certainly arrive too late.
The topic of reinforcements pulled the discussion toward numbers. In particular, how many fighting men did they have to field against the barbarians. Rhys conferred with his advisors and General Falke, and came back with a number of Fifteen-hundred Vinum soldiers. He prefaced this number by stating that a large portion of these soldiers were mostly new recruits or volunteers with limited experience. The Vinum army had also lost all of its cavalry in the previous engagement with the barbarians.
Kaewyn then conferred with General Alaric and Marcus, with the Greystone troops coming up to just under one-thousand strong, including a strong wing of experienced cavalry. With their combined total coming just shy of two and a half thousand men, the faces around the room became sullen and withdrawn. They all knew it was nowhere near enough to guarantee victory. Conservative estimates from their latest scouting reports put the barbarian’s numbers to be around five-thousand, a number doubling their own. General Alaric pointed out however, that the scouts had suspicions that not all of the barbarians were warriors and that some, perhaps a small number, were non-combatants. Even still, they were vastly outnumbered. Advisors, both Greystone and Vinum, began to argue over how best to battle the barbarian horde.
“Numbers alone do not guarantee victory.” Marcus said in his usual, self-assured way. His voice cut through the various arguments and quietened the entire tent as all eyes turned to him. “I believe we can win a decisive battle against the barbarians.”
“Then tell me your plan advisor.” Rhys demanded as his gaze fell upon Marcus. “The future of Vinum is at stake. If Varde Castle falls, we are lost.”
“I cannot control what happens within the castle walls my lord.” Marcus replied. “But we can control what happens outside.”
“Ever the riddle master.” General Alaric said tiredly.
“He is right Marcus.” Kaewyn added impatiently. “Speak plainly. Let us all hear what you have to say.”
“Very well.” Marcus said, clearing his throat. He was clearly enjoying the attention of everyone within the room, but Kaewyn knew better than anyone that when Marcus had an idea, it was best to listen.
“As I said, we cannot control what happens within Varde Castle. We will have to simply hope that your Garrison Commander can hold out a while longer while we prepare ourselves.”
“Prepare for what?” Rhys asked impatiently.
“To be defeated.” Marcus said with a smug smirk.
The entire tent fell silent. Kaewyn rubbed at his forehead, suddenly feeling as though he had a headache.
“I thought Lord Kaewyn told you to speak plainly.” General Alaric said angrily, clearly saying what everyone else was thinking. “Enough of your damn riddles.”
“Kaewyn, I swear if this man does not hurry up and explain his idea, I will have thrown out of here bloodied and beaten!” Rhys shouted.
“Marcus, please.” He warned. “Or I’ll have Alaric beat you himself.”
General Alaric smiled sinisterly and practically licked his lips with enthusiasm. The bushy eyed strategist rolled his eyes and sighed and began to nod his head.
“I propose we line up for battle with every soldier we have with one key exception.” Marcus said. “Our cavalry. We then challenge the enemy to battle. After they attack, we feign defeat and withdraw to a better position where we will have the advantage.”
“The barbarians outnumber us drastically. How will we have the advantage?” Rhys questioned.
“In the open fields outside of Varde Castle, their numbers give them an edge. Therefore, we will not fight them there. Our soldiers will withdraw to the hills and woods near camp. I have already chosen a suitable location. There, we can dig pits, build palisade walls and otherwise fortify our position to make the battle easier for us and more difficult for them. Once the enemy has taken the bait, our cavalry then emerges from a hidden location and flanks around behind the enemy, breaking the siege of Varde Castle.”
General Falke began to nod his head excitedly. “With the siege broken, perhaps we can rally the defenders to sally out and help us win the battle?”
Marcus nodded. “I have had a small number of men already working to build fortifications in the location I have chosen for us to battle the barbarians.”
“Already? You do not expect me to believe you knew this would happen?” Rhys asked.
“I did not know. I merely suspected and acted proactively. These are the hallmarks of strategy.” Marcus lectured. “If we can lure the barbarians into fighting us where the terrain and fortifications I am building, then the advantage will be ours despite their great number. However, advantage alone does not confer victory. The cavalry must do their part to break the siege and attack the barbarians in the flank.”
“Then I volunteer to lead the cavalry.” Arlan said as he made himself known. The ever reliable and stalwart warrior had been as quiet as a mouse up until this point, but Kaewyn knew he always volunteered for the most important and difficult of tasks.
“Arlan, was it not?” Rhys asked. “Grandson of Arlan the Swift.”
Arlan nodded. “I am he, Lord Callidus.”
“We fought during the Battle of the Rau, didn’t we?”
“We did.” Was Arlan’s curt reply.
Rhys scoffed. “I would rather trust the responsibility of leading the cavalry to one whom I know has the best interests of Vinum at heart.”
“Vinum is my home.” Arlan replied. “Just because I have chosen to serve Lord Edderfield, does not mean that I do not wish to protect Vinum. Lord Kaewyn seeks to protect us all and that is why I chose to serve him.”
Before Rhys to argue further, one of his guards interrupted the meeting with news that two men had arrived outside and were requesting entry. Rhys asked who they were, to which the guard explained them as claiming to be Lord Edderfield’s retainers. Rhys looked to Kaewyn who nodded, knowing that it must be Yohren and Sir Darius wanting to join the meeting. Rhys gave the order for the guard to escort them inside. Proving him correct, Yohren and Sir Darius entered shortly thereafter.
“Oh, the peasant retainer.” Rhys said offhandedly, eyeing Yohren as he rolled his eyes. “And who is this?”
“I am Sir Darius, my lord. Formerly of the order of… well, I suppose it no longer matters.”
“A knight, here? How curious.”
“What have you learnt Sir Darius?” Kaewyn asked.
“My lords, I have spoken at length with many of the… barbarian prisoners we have taken and they all say the same thing. The horde is led by the eleventh born son of the Great King Izhbek of the Great River Kingdom. He is named Prince Odabek, by all accounts an ambitious man with a sour and rash temperament to match.”
Rhys titled his head in absolute bewilderment. “Great King who of what? I thought this rabble were mindless barbarians led by petty chiefs and strongmen.”
“Apparently not.” Kaewyn interjected, lifting his arm to show the bandage covering his cut. “This wound was made by a curved steel blade wielded by one of these barbarians clad in steel armour. Many of them are armed with steel weapons and armour not inferior to our own Rhys. I am surprised you had not noticed this considering you fought against them yourself?”
“All I saw were savages with wooden spears and clubs. They rode painted horses and the most protected among them wore armour not much better than rags as far as I could tell.” Rhys explained sourly.
“While it may be true that some wield crude weapons and wear little armour at all, we cannot say the same for all of them.” Kaewyn said, remembering the differences he had seen of the barbarians within the prison pens. “It does not surprise me that the bulk of these invaders come from some far away land.”
“If Lord Callidus only saw primitive arms and armour when he battled them, then it would seem he battled against the Ralerai and not these River Empire folk from the far south.” Sir Darius added.”
“Who are the Ralerai?” Rhys questioned. “You mean to say there are more of them?”
“My lords, the majority of the prisoners who spoke with me do not belong to this River Empire, but consider themselves independent and free. They are the Ralerai.” Sir Darius continued. “They have been forced into this invasion by their distant, warlike cousins to the far south and want nothing to do with this war.”
“And you expect us to care about this revelation?” Rhys said angrily. “Unless they are willing to defect en-masse during the battle, then we have no use for them. These invaders must be put to the sword before they can harm our lands and people any more than they already have.”
“Hold on a moment.” General Falke said. “How is it that you spoke with these prisoners? My men and I have tried to communicate with the ones we have captured with no success. They speak their own language and seem to have no understanding of our own.”
Rhys raised an eyebrow and turned his gaze to the old knight.
“Sir Darius’s story is a long and troubling tale and one we do not have the time to go into.” Kaewyn said, eager to change the subject. “He can speak their language as they held him prisoner before this invasion.”
“A prisoner?” General Falke said.
“We are getting distracted with all this talk of the barbarians… or the Great River Kingdom or whatever they call themselves.” Rhys said. “In the end it does not matter. They have come to take what is ours, therefore we must do everything within our power to repel them. Kaewyn’s advisor has proposed we lure them away from Varde and fight them in a favourable position. Is there anything else we can do to improve our chances of victory?”
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“My name is Marcus Linforde, my lord.” Marcus added as he looked around the table at those gathered, including Rhys’s own advisors. “To be referred to as a mere advisor does me a disservice.”
“We still have not decided who will lead the cavalry.” General Falke added.
“I would nominate you for that honour, General.” Rhys made known with a wide, two-handed gesture for all to see. “It should be a son of Vinum.”
Marcus shook his head. “Where one was born does not determine ability. The one we choose must be capable of fulfilling the task. Nothing more.”
“Arlan has led the Greystone cavalry for some time now.” General Alaric stated confidently. “The men respect him and he has the required experience. Also considering the fact that nearly all of our cavalry will be Greystone riders means that Arlan is probably the best choice. It isn’t like we have any Vinum cavalry to call upon after you lot fought the barbarians without us and got yourselves killed.”
Rhys immediately became enraged at General Alaric’s not so subtle slight. Following their lord’s example, the Vinum advisors and military men began to argue out loud with their Greystone counterparts in what devolved into a shouting match over who should lead. Kaewyn sighed and shook his head, but he couldn’t help but smile when he saw that Camilla too, appeared to be fed up with the others and their bickering. She looked at him and returned his smile, then shrugged her shoulders as if to say that they may as well give up trying to get them to be civil.
When Kaewyn returned his attention back to the bickering, he saw out of the corner of his eye that Marcus and Sir Darius had stayed well clear of the arguments and were in a deep discussion of their own. Curious, he walked over and asked them what they were speaking about.
“We have an idea.” Marcus said with that clever smile he had become known for. “Sir Darius has provided us with the key.”
“Good, now how about you enlighten everyone else before they draw swords and begin to slaughter one another?”
Marcus cleared his throat and attempted to quieten the shouting, but his pleas fell upon deaf ears. Kaewyn decided to slam his fist on the table and call for calm. The time for subtlety had long passed and he was determined to not waste any time with pointless bickering.
“Sir Darius and Marcus have an idea.” He announced. “If you would all be so kind as to still your tongues and let them speak?”
The crowd of angry and opinionated men quietened their arguments to a low grumble, including Rhys who appeared to begrudgingly accept Kaewyn’s call for calm.
“The man who leads our foe, Prince Odabek, is said to be a warrior of great renown. The prisoners I spoke with say he hosts competitions between his champions to see who among them is the greatest. The winners are then given the honour of becoming his personal guard, but they all have one thing in common. Not one of them has ever beaten the prince himself.” Sir Darius explained. “He prides himself of being the best warrior among his entire army and is not one to turn down a challenge.”
“Therefore…” Marcus interjected. “I say we play upon this fool’s desire to be the best warrior and challenge him to single combat.”
“If he is as good as you say he is, then are we certain there is a man among us who can best this warrior prince?” General Falke asked.
“I will challenge this prince!” Arlan said loudly.
“Arlan, have you not already volunteered yourself to lead the cavalry?” Kaewyn asked.
“Lord Rhys and the others would rather have their own man for the role, so let them. Battling this prince on your behalf would be my honour.” Arlan replied.
“It doesn’t matter who, as long as they can fight and do not get themselves killed immediately. I have no interest in actually trying to beat this fool.” Marcus explained. “What I suggest is this. We have a skilful warrior challenge this prince Adabek—”
“Odabek.” Sir Darius corrected.
“Right, that is what I said.” Marcus replied as he waved his hand dismissively. “We have a warrior challenge him to single combat. His own reputation amongst his army will force him to accept our challenge, but during the combat our warrior will pretend to be beaten and flee.”
“Flee?” Arlan questioned. “But I can defeat him.”
“Even if you could, my plan will yield to us far more than your simple victory ever would.” Marcus countered. “When you are defeated, you will withdraw to our troops. This will no doubt bolster this prince’s confidence and he will likely chase you. His army will follow, and then our army feigns defeat and retreats to our pre-prepared position.”
“I can see the logic in your plan Marcus, as it will draw the enemy forces to where we want them.” Kaewyn said. “But a feigned retreat can easily turn into a real one if we are not organised and prepared.”
“Your concern is understandable.” Marcus replied. “But I believe it is something we can achieve.”
“Do you remember the Founding Emperor’s first battle in his bid to unite the Empire under his banner?” Kaewyn explained, recalling his study of many records detailing the Empire’s creation as he continued to speak. “King Lannen tried this exact manoeuvre, but instead of luring the Founding Emperor’s army into a trap, his infamous feigned withdrawal became a total rout. Lannen’s kingdom fell before the year was out.”
“Ah, you speak truly my lord, but King Lannen made one vital flaw.” Marcus said. “Rather than stand with his men and keep them orderly during the retreat, he and his veterans waited in ambush. Lannen delegated the command of his main force to inexperienced men. When the feigned retreat began, these inexperienced men started to panic and as you say, their withdrawal became a rout.”
“Enough of your back and forth.” Rhys said. “What is our plan going to be?”
“Lord Edderfield, Lord Callidus, my plan is to have both of you lead our main forces together. As Lords of Greystone and Vinum, the men will follow your example. With you there our soldiers will not succumb to panic.”
“But that would put them in the most danger, would it not?” General Falke questioned.
“Indeed, a most dangerous position indeed.” Marcus said. “But Lord Edderfield is no stranger to such things. He always places himself where he be of most use, regardless of the risk. One just has to look at the Battle of the Rau or the Battle for Taneby to see that I speak the truth. Am I wrong to assume the same can be said of Lord Callidus?”
Rhys snarled. Kaewyn was impressed by how Marcus had spoken. Not only had he come up with a great plan, but he had done so in a way that forced Rhys to cooperate or be seen as a man who would not place himself at risk. It was perfectly done. Rhys had no course of action but to agree, whether he wanted to or not otherwise he risked being seen by his advisors as a coward.
“While I do not doubt Lord Kaewyn’s courage, Lord Rhys is also a brave warrior.” General Falke explained. “When the gates of Taneby were opened, he was among the first to ride in and battle the Severus soldiers. In fact, his attack was the moment that won the battle.”
A smug look appeared upon Rhys’s face as his general praised him. He lapped up the compliments from his advisors as they too, chimed in with their own praise of his bravery. His ego satisfied, he agreed to Marcus’s proposal.
“My lords. I must protest at the notion of fleeing from this prince. If I can defeat him in single combat, should I not endeavour to do so in honourably?”
“This is not about honour, Arlan. Nor is it about defeating a single man.” Kaewyn explained. “Following Marcus’s plan will give us the best chance of winning the battle. You heard what he said earlier, if we battle the barbarian’s upon the open field, the advantage is theirs. Your defeat and our withdrawal is the best way to convince them to abandon their clear advantage by chasing us.”
“I understand.” Arlan said with a sigh. “If you command it, then I shall do as you say.”
“If it troubles you so, you could lead the cavalry instead.” Kaewyn said.
“No, my lord. As much as it pains to me to admit it, I am the best suited to the role. If we send a warrior of middling skill, then we risk him actually losing and being killed.” Arlan explained. “No, it must be me.”
“Then you have your orders.” Kaewyn said. “My thanks, Arlan. I know it is not easy for you, but your actions will play a significant part in our victory.”
“Then it is decided. We have our plan.” Rhys said with a relieved smile. “The only thing left to discuss is who leads the cavalry.”
“Perhaps one of the generals, either Falke or Alaric?” Marcus suggested.
“Alaric is more experienced than I.” Falke said. “If he wishes to lead, then I will not contest him.”
“Falke is too humble.” Alaric said with a chuckle. “I believe he should lead the cavalry. Besides, my experience lays with commanding the bulk of the army. If my lords wish it, I would prefer to remain with the main force to assist with the withdrawal.”
With the matter of who was to lead the cavalry decided, it seemed as though they had discussed everything they needed to, but before they could move on, Camilla suddenly spoke up.
“Uhm, I have an important matter to bring up.” She said softly, though Kaewyn could tell that she was trying to be confident.
“This better not be nonsense Camilla.” Rhys said. “What is it?”
“We have a great many wounded here in camp plus many others who will not be fighting in this battle. I do not wish to speak of such scenarios for fear of breathing life into the possibility, but… if the battle is lost, what are these wounded to do?”
“Good question.” Kaewyn said before anyone else could shut her down.
“No, it isn’t.” Rhys said. “If we lose the battle, then we will all be dead or enslaved. What does it matter what happens to a few wounded?”
“What of Camilla herself, Rhys?” Kaewyn countered, feeling that familiar anger inside of him beginning to swell. “Surely if we fell in battle, you would still care what happens to your own flesh and blood?”
“Well, I… I suppose that is true enough.”
“Grant Lady Camilla command of the camp after we have left to do battle with the barbarians.” Kaewyn suggested. “If we fail, then she and the survivors and wounded should make for Xu Castle. Hopefully they can shelter there until another army can be raised to repel the barbarians.”
“You want me to grant a command to my sister?” Rhys said in bewilderment.
“You said so yourself Rhys. You, I and everybody else in this room will probably be dead if we lose the battle, so it won’t matter much either way, will it?”
Rhys sighed. “Fine. Once we have left the camp for battle, the command is yours, Camilla.”
Camilla nodded and remained ever the example of a reserved noblewoman, but Kaewyn could tell that inside she was absolutely beaming to be given a real command. Though he suspected that she hoped that she would never have the chance to actually use her newfound authority. Still, he was happy for her. Even if she never got the opportunity, it brought him great joy to make her happy.
All of the advisors, generals and military staff present looked to each other for any sign of protest or additional suggestions. A brief silence took hold as they waited for another issue or matter to suddenly appear, but when nothing came up, Rhys began to tap his finger upon the table anxiously. At Rhys’s request, everyone present went over the plan one more time, including individual responsibilities and tasks assigned to each of them. Once everyone was content that everything was in order, the meeting was called to an end.
Kaewyn was the first to leave the tent. Once outside in the fresh air, he realised just how stuffy inside the command tent had been. The torches inside had been bright, a necessary thing if those inside wished to see the map or read any documents presented during the meeting, however, that did not mean the brightness hadn’t contributed to his headaches. Now outside, the night sky and gentle torchlight was a welcome relief to his senses and the gentle, cool breeze felt good on his face and skin. He was followed closely by his inner circle who followed him outside, but rather than head back to their section of the camp immediately, Kaewyn lingered just outside the command tent. The others did the same, though he suspected they had no idea why and were just following his lead. He approached them and told them that they were dismissed as he did not want them to waste their time waiting for him. General Alaric announced that he wanted to see what Marcus was building in terms of the position where they planned to battle the barbarians and would not take no for an answer. With a heavy, tired sigh, Marcus agreed to take him to the site. Arlan decided to join them, but Yohren and Sir Darius simply remained behind to wait for him. He didn’t care either way. All he wanted was a chance to speak with Camilla one more time before the battle. And so, he waited.
After a few moments, Rhys’s advisors began to stream out of the command tent in groups of two or three. Kaewyn watched eagerly for any sign of Camilla, and when he spotted the Callidus cloak and long brown hair, he made his move. Just before he could open his mouth, he heard a rather insistent voice call for him.
“My lord?” The voice called, causing him to hesitate. “I need to speak with you. It is rather important.”
Kaewyn sighed. He watched as Camilla was shepherded out of the command tent and away by General Falke and a few others. His opportunity now gone, he turned to see what so urgently required his attention. Sir Darius stood before him with a concerned expression upon his face. The old knight lacked his usual calm confidence that Kaewyn had come to associate him with and instead, appeared stiff and uncomfortable. Yohren walked up beside him and crossed his arms. His retainer seemed to be interested in what the old knight had to say as well.
“Lord Edderfield, I have a suggestion that is difficult for me to make.” The old knight began. “But my honour demands that I do so, regardless of how uncomfortable it makes me. I hope that you will consider it before you give me your answer.”
Kaewyn was uncertain why Sir Darius had chosen this particular moment to come to him with his suggestion, but he bade the old knight continue anyway. He was curious as to what had gotten Sir Darius so serious and uncomfortable.
“My lord, the Ralerai. I believe I can convince them to stay out of the battle.” Sir Darius said. “If you give me your blessing, I would like to leave tonight. If I can speak with the chieftain with your promise of clemency, I know I can convince him and the Ralerai to stay put when the battle begins.”
“Sir Darius… this is some suggestion. Why did you not raise this idea of yours during the meeting?” He asked.
The old knight shook his head. “I have already seen how everyone perceives the Ralerai. The possibility of any of them even considering the idea is hardly likely. They would never consider collaborating with mindless barbarians and savages with wooden spears and clubs, would they?”
“That may be true Sir Darius, but coming to me privately to endorse such a request is a difficult thing for me to consider.” He explained. “You are privy to our entire plan of battle. If I agreed to let you go and you told our enemy of our plans… or even if you were captured by this Prince Odabek men’s and not the Ralerai, then our entire army may be lost. Besides all of that, can you swear to me that the Ralerai chieftain would even agree to stay out of the battle? How can you guarantee that he does not have you brought in chains before the prince to reveal our plans?”
“Everything you say has merit, my lord. All I can say in response is that you trust me.” Sir Darius asked. “I trust the Ralerai chieftain with my life. I have known him for almost his entire life. And while I cannot promise that he will agree, I know in my heart that he would never turn me over to the prince unless he had no other choice.”
“You ask for trust, yet in return you give none.” He said as he shook his head. “Sir Darius, you have not been entirely honest with me since joining us, have you?”
“What do you mean?” The old knight asked, his expression showing his confusion.
“The villagers you saved. They told us that you saved them from attack on your way north. And you did not use your sword to do it, but your words. You spoke with who I am guessing were the Ralerai, and then they left you in peace.” He explained, recalling what Yohren had told him. “Furthermore, you then told the villagers to keep it to themselves. You omitted this detail when you told me your story. You have also been incredibly vague whenever I have asked you about how you escaped the Ralerai before the invasion. All of this and your obvious close relationship and care for the prisoners makes it hard for me to trust you, Sir Darius. Until you are honest with me and tell me exactly why you care so much for the Ralerai and trust their chieftain with your life, despite being their prisoner for twenty years, I cannot do as you ask. I cannot put my trust in you and risk everything. It would be stupid and irresponsible of me to put my trust in a man who so obviously has not put his trust in me.”
“I… I know I have not been honest with you. My reasons have not been out of malice or deceit, but out of simple necessity. I feared that you would react as the others have, with misunderstanding and prejudice against those they label and simple barbarians.” The old knight said tearfully. “Please my lord. Forgive an old man for his secrets.”
Kaewyn sighed and crossed his arms. Sir Darius appeared to be genuine, but everything he had told the old knight was the truth. Regardless of his reasoning, Sir Darius has still been at the very least, guilty of not speaking the whole truth. Whether he wanted to forgive him or not was irrelevant. He simply could not do as he asked.
“Yohren!” Sir Darius nearly shouted. “Yohren, please. Convince him to see reason. You were with me when we spoke with the Ralerai in the prison pens. You saw how they wanted nothing to do with this conflict.”
“Pleading for Yohren to speak in favour of the Ralerai?” Kaewyn said with amusement. “Very well. Considering he has lost more than anyone else I know to the Ralerai, his opinion on the matter bears consideration.”
“Wait, what do you mean he has lost to the Ralerai?” The old knight stammered.
“The Ralerai often raided my village Sir Darius.” Yohren recounted sternly. “Throughout all of my childhood, I remember several times where we lost food, buildings, supplies… and people to their raids. I even lost my mother to them. Why do you think they told me of how you saved them from the Ralerai even though they were indebted to you for doing so? It was because I am one of them.”
Sir Darius lifted his head to the darkened sky and began to shake it. He breathed in deeply and exhaled through his nose. The old knight then rubbed at his temples as he became emotional.
“The gods are truly cruel. For my past actions have come yet again to punish the Ralerai.” The old knight said through tears. “It was my knighthood order that attacked them and slaughtered their people. It was my knighthood order that caused them to retaliate against your village, Yohren. If you must lay blame, then lay it at my feet. Lay it at the feet of my long dead, sinful brothers. I do not dare ask for forgiveness for myself or my order, but please find it in your heart to forgive the Ralerai. They only acted out of anger and fear for what I had done to them.”
Yohren swallowed back a lump in his throat and Kaewyn could see tears forming in his eyes. His retainer maintained a brave face, but he suspected it cannot have been easy for him to relive the memories of those raids and losing his mother.
“Sir Darius, you may have caused the attacks on my village all those years ago, but you also saved those living there from this invasion. If you hadn’t, they’d have been wiped out. All of them.” Yohren explained. “Because of what you did, I can forgive you, but the Ralerai… they took my mother away from me. How am I supposed to ever forgive something like that? I don’t know if they want this conflict or not, but I am sorry, but I can’t speak on their behalf. Not after that.”
“You have your answer, Sir Darius.” Kaewyn said.
“My lord…” Sir Darius said, his tone desperate. “I am not sworn to you. I do not serve the Edderfield or Callidus families. I am a free man, free to do as I please.”
“Sir Darius.” Kaewyn replied sternly. “Do not force my hand.”
“I wish there was another path open to me, but I have realised the error of my ways. I promise to be completely honest with you from now on no matter the consequences. And therefore, I am telling you now Lord Edderfield, I will do whatever I think is right.”
Kaewyn smiled sadly. “Thank you for finally being honest with me. You will be released once the battle is done.”
Sir Darius nodded his head and returned the smile. A look of relief washed over his face as though he had come to some great epiphany. The old knight held out his hands in front of him. Kaewyn ordered Yohren to bind his hands and take him into custody. Rather than have him put with the other prisoners, he told Yohren that it was sufficient to have him confined to his tent under guard. He gave specific orders that he be treated well and brought whatever he asked for within reason during his imprisonment.
As Yohren led a compliant and bound Sir Darius away toward the Greystone part of the camp, Kaewyn found himself understanding what it meant to be a lord. Making difficult decisions with no clear right or wrong answer, listening to advice and choosing who was worthy of placing trust in were all fundamental challenges a lord must face. He wondered how his father had fared when it came to such challenges. His father, the late Lord Corrhen, had ruled during a troubled time, of that he held no doubts. But he wondered if it could even compare to what he faced now, or in fact what he had already endured since his father’ untimely demise. Kaewyn had not yet reached his twenty-third winter and he had already taken part in decisive battles and witnessed the Revaryn Empire fall even further into chaos. Imprisoning a man whom he had come to respect was just one more thing that he’d had to do in order to survive these troubled times. It seemed to him, that there was no more a turbulent time to live than during the slow, often violent fall of a dying empire.