Camilla pressed on and spurred her small pack horse to go faster again and again. The beast protested by snorting and tossing its head. The horse was used to slower journeys while carrying a heavy load, but the pace she had set was entirely unfamiliar to the poor creature. She believed herself to be an excellent rider. In fact, she had never met anyone who could ride as well as she did. She had quickly outgrown her riding instructors at a young age and on several occasions, she had even put her brother to shame. During her short time with the outriders of the Greystone army, whose task it was to scout ahead to warn of any danger, she still found herself to be among the very best of them. All of this served only to add to her frustration at their slower pace. Despite her skill, there was little more she could do other than go as fast as the horse could take her.
Of her two guards, Edgren was by far the worse rider. Several times she had to slow down for him. Each time, scolding him. Afterwards she remembered what they were doing for her and what they were risking by coming with her, causing her to feel a fresh pang of guilt. Her feelings were soon forgotten however as they came across a group of haggardly looking people whom she guessed must have been refugees. She called out to them to let them know of their approach. The people slowed and eventually stopped and turned to face them.
The refugees had tired faces and most were covered in dirt and bruises. They all wore torn clothing and carried on their backs all sorts of goods and supplies. She paused to ask them if they had seen a single rider travelling this way and was rewarded with the knowledge that they had passed by a rider only some ten minutes ago. She cursed aloud, causing the refugees to look at her in utter shock. It was obvious to her that they believed she was a noblewoman of some kind, and to swear so openly in front of them went against everything they knew of the noble class. She didn’t care. All she knew was that if they were a whole ten minutes behind, their chances of catching up were slim at best. Without hesitating, she spurred her poor horse onwards and left the refugees behind.
Soon after, Camilla found herself recognising where they were. She had known roughly in which direction to go from the camp to reach Varde Castle, but up until now she hadn’t known exactly where they were. She had ridden all over Vinum Province so when she came across a crossroads, she was able to work out precisely where they were. If they followed the road that led west, Varde Castle would appear on the horizon in no time at all. Without stopping to wait for her two guards, she took the road west and continued to push her horse to go faster.
For every minute that passed, her hope began to dwindle. When the silhouette of Varde Castle did appear in the far distance, she knew it was over. She rode up a small incline to get a better view of the fields surrounding her home and saw the barbarian camp just out of archer range of the walls. The camp was a beehive of activity. She feared that the barbarians were now getting ready to move to counter the plan that Kaewyn and Rhys had put everything on the line for, but in truth she had no idea what they were doing from this distance. The fact that she and her two guards had not come across the knight by now meant that he was almost certainly at the camp. She had failed.
Edgren and her other guard rode up beside her and cursed softly. Camilla knew that the plan involved her friend General Falke leading the cavalry to attack that camp to relieve the siege, but as of yet there was no sign of them. If her suspicions were true, then the camp would be expecting the attack now. She wished there was some way she could warn Falke before the attack began, but she didn’t even know where they were hiding. She couldn’t save them now, no matter what she did. If the barbarians knew they were coming, then General Falke and the men under his command would be slaughtered. She bit her lip and swore under her breath, that familiar feeling of helplessness welling up inside of her. She hated that feeling.
“Milady, what do we do now?” Edgren asked.
“There is nothing we can do here anymore.” She said sullenly. “But we can still warn Kaewyn and my brother.”
“Chasing this knight all the way out here is one thing, but your brother is fighting a battle.” Edgren warned. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I have to agree with him milady. It is reckless for you to risk yourself this way.” The other guard said. “We should return to camp.”
It certainly is reckless, but hey, I’m stubborn like that.
***
The fortifications were immense. Kaewyn felt an incredible surge of relief when he heard one of his men shout that they had made it. He turned around and saw what once must have been a gently sloping hill. Now though, it looked more like a complete hillfort. Hundreds of pointed spikes had been placed facing outwards at the base of the hill. Deep pits had been dug all over, preventing an easy approach with any significant number of troops. These obstacles were laid out to prevent an all-out attack and instead, forced a single chokepoint that would funnel the attackers into a narrow path. Further up the hill, Marcus had erected several layers of palisade walls. These wooden walls were made out of hundreds of individual pieces of timber tied or hammered together, and while a determined enemy could eventually smash through them, they provided an excellent temporary barricade. At the very apex of Marcus’s hillfort, Kaewyn saw elevated wooden platforms complete with parapets that flew the Edderfield and Callidus banners. He suspected a group of well-drilled archers could wreak havoc upon an enemy approaching from below with little risk to themselves from so high up.
Kaewyn tiredly gave the order for his men to break formation and make their way up into the hillfort as quickly as possible. The barbarian main force hadn’t pressed them for some time, but he still decided to leave behind a small force to ensure their safety as they entered the hillfort. When he was satisfied, he started up the hill himself. He could practically feel the sense of relief wash over his men as they streamed through the narrow path. Some collapsed the moment they were past the palisade walls while others remained alert and on guard. Once the bulk of their forces were through, he ordered for the small force watching their rear to abandon their position and make their way up the hill as well. Thankfully, everyone made it inside without complication. It was only then that Kaewyn allowed himself to relax a little. He spotted Yohren drinking eagerly from a waterskin and thanked him for his quick thinking when the line had been momentarily broken. His retainer humbly declined the praise and stated that he only acted as any of their men would have. Kaewyn felt the urge to sit and regain some of his strength, but while the barbarians were not attacking, he knew that his time would be better spent meeting with Marcus. He gave Yohren authority to take command and hold the chokepoint leading up to the hillfort if they were attacked in his absence, and then left. He made his way further up the hill in search of his top advisor.
Kaewyn found Marcus in the middle of directing a crew of unarmed labourers. His tone of voice was sharp as it always was, but he also noticed that the bushy eyed advisor was not overly cruel with his words. He commanded the labourers to make their way to the rear of the hillfort and to assist those already working there to finish whatever it was they were doing. He stressed the importance of their task and pointed out how little time they had left to accomplish it. The labourers nodded their heads and jogged away, carrying their tools with them.
“My lord, I am relieved to see you and your men made it here relatively unscathed.” Marcus said as he stood with his hands behind his back. “If my reports are to be believed, the others I fear, have had it considerably worse.”
“Unscathed? Marcus, my horse was killed out from under me.” He said with a wide handed gesture. “Our line was breached and we were lucky to have been able to reform. Otherwise, the entire line would have been broken.”
Marcus chuckled softly. “As I said, my reports suggest General Alaric and Lord Rhys are having an even worse time of it. Once they reach this fortress though, I believe our fortunes will turn.”
Kaewyn was about to give Marcus an earful when a high-pitched horn blew in rapid short bursts off in the far distance. The horn continued to blow, again and again, allowing him to ascertain that it was coming from the West.
“General Alaric?” He pondered aloud.
“Yes, I believe you are correct. It seems our western flank requires aid.” Marcus said. “Perhaps you should gather a relief force and head out at once.”
Another horn then blew. This time though, the horn was close by and probably from within the fort itself. Kaewyn and Marcus made their way over to one of the archer platforms and looked out over the parapets. To the North and emerging from within the woods was a swarm of barbarian soldiers. Their eery chants and war cries grew louder and louder as they crept closer to the base of the fort. Kaewyn watched their number grow but sighed in relief that they had not yet commenced an attack. They seemed perfectly content to wait just out of arrow range, though for what he could not say. Perhaps the sight of the imposing fortress now in front of them had caused them to hesitate out of fear or caution. He only hoped that they would delay their inevitable assault until the fort was fully garrisoned.
“My lord, it is imperative that General Alaric’s forces survive and are able to withdraw to the fort. If we lose them, we will not be able to hold for long.” Marcus said, his face betraying his concern.
“I know, Marcus.” He replied. “But we must also hold this fort until they arrive.”
“That much is also true.” Marcus said, scratching his chin in thought. “Holding the fort is our top priority so I suggest you remain here to lead the defence. The soldiers need to know their lord stands with them. As for the western flank… perhaps Arlan can lead a relief force with whatever men can be spared.”
“That works. But what if Rhys calls for aid too? We will have no one to spare.” Kaewyn asked.
Marcus shrugged his shoulders. “In the end, better him than us.”
Kaewyn shook his head. “Marcus…”
“Did I slur my words, my lord?” The bushy-eyed scholar said unashamedly. “If it comes to choosing between a semi-hostile ally and one of our own Generals, the choice is clear, is it not?”
“It does not speak well of us to talk of an ally in such a way.” He said quietly.
“Even if you agree?” Marcus questioned.
Kaewyn did agree. Though the more he pondered the question the more he hoped that he would choose whoever required his help more, rather than let his emotions or personal feelings get in the way. That was the honourable thing to do he told himself, but as he had found since becoming lord, often these things were never so simple. The only thing he could do right now was hope that Rhys was doing just fine on his own, though the fact that he and his men had not yet arrived did not bode well.
“Marcus, have Arlan take some of the men to reinforce the General. I will leave just how many to send up to you. Before you argue,” He said, holding his hands up defensively. “I know it will leave the fort shorthanded, but the way I see it we have little choice. We just have to hope we can hold the fort until both Rhys and General Alaric’s men arrive.”
“While the sight of soldiers marching out of the fort will hardly fill me with confidence, I find that I agree with you, my lord. I will organise it.” Marcus said. “You, however, must ensure our allies have a fort to return to.”
Kaewyn nodded, but before parting with Marcus, a tremendous horn blew from within the woods. He knew immediately that this was no allied signal. The horn continued to blow a deep, low rumble that seemed to go on forever. Looking down below and beyond the defences at the base of the fort, he saw hundreds of barbarians streaming toward them. Perhaps more. The barbarians were attacking. All of them.
***
Without the pack horses, Camilla knew their chances of finding the army were next to nil. Even though they were slower than she’d prefer, the horses still allowed her and her two guards to travel more swiftly. So far, they had been incredibly lucky. A fact which Edgren repeated with increasing frequency. They had only spotted small groups of barbarians off in the distance a couple of times. Camilla decided that they should follow in the same direction they had seen the barbarians headed, much to the dismay of her guards. She saw the irony in following them but wanting to remain safe, but she didn’t see any other way of finding the army other than following those who were fighting them. Despite the constant grumbling and sometimes outright pleading for her to turn back and head to camp, Camilla pressed on. She wasn’t about to give up when she believed Kaewyn and her brother needed her most. If she could just reach one of them, then everything would be okay.
The sound of metal smashing upon metal resounded through the woods and shattered the ominous silence that had taken root. Camilla froze in her saddle and held her breath, waiting to see if she could hear anything more. Several angry shouts followed by a scream cut short echoed in the distance. It sounded as though something horrible had happened, but Camilla’s curiosity, and need for an idea of where to go, caused her to hesitantly travel in the direction the scream had come from. Edgren protested with an insistent whisper. He suggested they turn back and not for the first time. Camilla silenced him with an impatient gesture. She required complete silence if she was going to be able to tell where the barbarians had ridden off to. The woods fell silent yet again and all she could hear was the gentle stomps of her horse’s hoofs in the soft dirt. A minute passed. Nothing. Another minute passed, but still the source of the earlier sound was nowhere to be found. Then she spotted it and felt sick.
Bloodied bodies, battered and broken lay strewn about a small clearing. The grass and dirt were stained with blood, and even the base of several trees had been covered with the red substance. She guessed there were about a dozen bodies, perhaps more. Most were barbarians judging by the armour they wore. Their long black hair and darker skin were the only other indicators of which side they belonged to. The other bodies were her people. She recognised their armour and weapons, but the clearest sign was a broken banner with the Callidus family colours that lay torn and in the dirt amongst the bodies.
“Make sure it is safe.” She said softly to Edgren and her other guard. “Then check for any survivors.”
“Survivors?” Edgren said hesitantly. “Unlikely.”
Camilla remained on her horse while the two guards dismounted and checked the area. The slaughter was very recent which meant that the ones who did this were still nearby. She felt uneasy just thinking about it, but it also meant that her own people can’t be too far away either.
“This one still lives.” Her other guard called out, though he spoke softly enough that his voice did not carry through the woods.
Camilla dismounted and made her way over to him with Edgren joining them a moment later. Her other guard knelt beside the survivor. He was one of theirs, a common foot soldier. His armour was dented and stained with blood and his helmet had come loose. Camilla’s first thought was that the man was relatively uninjured, but when her gaze found the wound present on his lower half, she knew he had little chance of survival. Blood spurted out of his belly at a steady, near-constant flow. Despite the wounded man attempting to cover his wound with his two hands, the blood continued to ooze through his mail mittens between each finger. Camilla did her best to put on a brave face, but the horrid metallic smell of the blood brought her back to the Battle of the Rau where Kaewyn had rescued her from the late Lord Severus. That night, she had impulsively used Cassius’s own dagger to stab him over and over, ending his life. It was revenge for his murder of Lysia and Rhea, the former of which was General Falke’s sister. It was revenge for the Severus invasion of her home, and it was revenge for taking her prisoner. She still remembered how it felt as the point of the dagger pierced his flesh, causing the blood to flow. The smell of it made her sick.
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“He won’t last long, milady. We should get out of here.” The other guard said.
“Where is the rest of our army?” She asked the dying man.
The dying soldier tried to speak but instead all he managed to do was spurt blood from his mouth. He then succumbed to a coughing fit, causing his body to shake violently. The soldier’s mouth and chin were now covered with blood and for a moment, she thought he had died. But then, the soldier managed to lift his arm and point South-West. Camilla asked again just to make sure if that was where the army was, and the soldier nodded his head. She thanked him for his help, but the soldier’s arm had already dropped back to his side, his eyes glazed over in a blank stare. She wanted to remain and do something for him and the others who had been slain but she knew it was folly. It was already dangerous enough for them to be here. To delay any longer would only serve to invite trouble. Instead, she used her sleeve to wipe the blood from the soldier’s lips and placed her hand on his forehead, wishing him luck in finding his ancestors. She wasn’t particularly religious and had never cared for the teachings she received as a child, but she could see the comfort that belief in such things gave when facing death. The possibility of loved ones and family waiting for you in the afterlife was a pleasant one. For the fallen soldier’s sake, she hoped there was some truth to it.
Camilla and her two guards then departed the clearing and headed in the direction the soldier had indicated, hoping that they would not bear witness to any more barbarian slaughter, though perhaps more importantly, the barbarians themselves. Her small party travelled South-West for some time. The woods became gradually denser the longer they travelled which limited their vision. While this was concerning to her, she also recognised that the same would be true for any lurking barbarians. They heard distant shouts and screams more than once, warning them that if they were unlucky enough to be found, their fate was likely sealed. If discovered, she knew they had very little chance of escaping the barbarians on the pack horses. During the meeting she had learned that many of the barbarians rode smaller horses. Though smaller, they had also been observed to be much faster. I wish I could have a chance to ride one of them. One day…
Edgren halted them with a silent hand signal. He pointed out disturbed earth and other evidence that a large number of people had passed through here only recently. Camilla was hopeful that they were allies as Edgren pointed out the tracks were left by boot and not by hoof. Since the army had given all of its horses to General Falke to use, she knew that hoof marks in this area would have been a bad sign as their soldiers would not have had horses. Heartened by their discovery, the group pushed on and soon the woods began to become sparse again. They continued to travel in the direction the soldier had given them and soon they came upon a path. As they considered whether to follow it or continue South-West, Camilla heard a rush of hoofs and shouting in the distance. Thinking quickly, she turned her horse around and called for the others to follow her. They returned to where the woods became dense and hid, only to see dozens upon dozens of riders coming down the path from the North and from the direction of Varde Castle.
The darker-skinned barbarians wore scaled armour and wielded a mix of spears and curved swords. Their helmets were made from steel and leather and designed with an open face. All reports she had heard of the barbarians had led her to believe they were all covered in tattoos and painted their horses in stripes of colour. None of the ones she saw now bore any tattoos that she could see, nor were any of their horses painted, a fact which confused her. Camilla spotted two, perhaps three who had a single, tall tuft of feathers on the top of their helmets. She guessed that these were most likely the leaders. The barbarians talked in their language for a short while and then burst into laughter. Every one of them let out a hearty laugh before their leaders called for calm. They then shouted something that sounded to her like an order or a command. The barbarians then began to ride South along the path. When they were all gone, Camilla guessed that there were easily over a hundred of them in total. She let go of her breath that she hadn’t realised she was holding and breathed a sigh of relief. The look on her guard’s faces told her that they too were relieved. After a brief discussion, with Edgren once again suggesting they turn back, Camilla decided that they would continue to place their trust in the dead soldier’s directions and continue South-West rather than follow the path South.
The woods had been a constant feature of their journey so far, but after spending the better part of two hours avoiding the barbarians, the woods finally gave way to open fields. The moment Camilla rode her packhorse out from the shelter of the light woods and out into the open, she suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable. It was one thing to avoid an army of barbarians in the shelter of the woods, but entirely another when out in the fields. She could see so far in every direction that it scared her. The chances of them being spotted were so high now. Maybe… Maybe we should turn back? No, we can’t give up now. We cannot have come all this way for nothing!
As she scanned the horizon for any sign of danger, she was momentarily blinded by a flash of light. She covered her eyes and then looked again. She realised that she had been blinded due to something reflecting to sun’s light into her eyes. When she looked again, she saw a whole group of soldiers. The sun had reflected off their shiny armour. Dozens and dozens of them. She was hit by a wave of excitement and relief as she saw three banners of her family held high above them. They were waving in the air as the soldiers below marched in a tight and compact formation. She only barely suppressed the urge to shout and scream as loudly as her lungs would allow to get their attention. The barbarian riders they had seen earlier cannot have gotten far, so rather than shout, she pointed them out to her two guards who both let out sighs of relief of their own. Camilla spurred her horse forward as fast as it could go. If she could warn Kaewyn and her brother about the knight’s escape, then perhaps they could come up with a new plan and still defeat the barbarians. She was so proud of what she had accomplished and so happy that she would be able to make a difference. Camilla believed that the allied forces of Greystone and Vinum had a definite chance now, and it was all because of her.
Camilla did her best to suppress her wide grin as she and her guards rode for the cluster of soldiers across the fields. She was overcome with a sense of self-satisfaction and joy but she didn’t want to appear as a complete lunatic to Rhys or his soldiers, smiling as she was. Her brother had named her Commander, after all, and thus she believed she should act accordingly.
The Vinum soldiers spotted their approach shortly after and quickly turned spears and shields to face them, though they quickly lowered their guard a moment later. It wasn’t likely they saw three riders as a threat to such a mass of soldiers she thought, but as she got closer, she began to see the confusion in their ranks. Riding close enough to speak, Camilla called out for her brother’s whereabouts. Not one of the soldiers answered her and many simply gawked at her. Some spoke in hushed voices while others chuckled or laughed, seemingly unsurprised at her sudden appearance. Their attitude toward her was hardly surprising. She recognised these men by their silver armour and grizzled faces. They were her brother’s elite, the best Vinum Province had to offer in soldiery. Many of them had served for a long time and had seen many battles. She was quite aware that amongst their ranks she had developed a reputation for being rather wild and unpredictable. Unlike the new recruits whose respect she had earned in her many interactions with them in camp, these soldiers looked at her through her brother’s eyes.
Frustrated, she asked again where her brother was. Rather than reply, a few of the soldiers simply pointed. Instead of thanking them for their less than enthusiastic assistance, she replied with a simple nod of the head as she spurred her horse through their parted ranks. Her two guards followed behind diligently as many more silver armoured soldiers gave them curious glances. Then she saw him. Her brother was easily recognisable by his blonde hair. Though caked in dirt and what she believed was blood, he appeared no worse for wear. His back was turned and he seemed busy fussing over something one of his soldiers was showing him. She shuffled her weight to the side and slid down from her horse. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she then and handed the reins to Edgren and called out her brother’s name.
Rhys turned around slowly. When his eyes met with hers, she saw his helmet fall from his hands and landed on the ground with a heavy thud. He shook his head in disbelief. His empty, dumbfounded look lasted only a second, quickly giving way to narrowed eyes and snarling lips. He stormed toward her and closed the distance between them in seconds, cursing loudly as he did so.
“Camilla!” Rhys shouted. Her brother’s gauntleted fists waved about aggressively as he spoke. “I refuse to believe that even you would be stupid enough to have come out here. We are in the middle of a battle against the barbarians and yet you ride up as though you haven’t a care in the world. You could have been killed, or worse!”
“Rhys, I would not be here if it was not important.”
“Bah! I highly doubt that.” He said angrily as his eyes looked past her and toward her two guards. “And what’s worse is you travelled here with only two men to protect you? What help did you think they would have been had you encountered our enemy?”
“Just listen to me!” She pleaded.
“Why should I?” Rhys spat back at her. “All you ever seem to do is frustrate me.”
“Lord Callidus. Might I speak?”
Camilla turned her head to see her other guard had stepped forward and now stood beside her. Edgren remained further back by her horse, his expression of confusion summed up perfectly how she felt seeing the otherwise quiet, heavyset soldier coming forward to speak. He hadn’t said much since the camp, but now it seemed he had something to say.
“I know you,” Rhys replied, a curious look in his eye.
“Yes, Lord. I serve as one of the two dozen of your personal guard. You left me behind in camp to watch over Lady Camilla in your absence.” He explained. “To make sure her ladyship did not get herself into or cause any trouble.”
“And yet she stands before me in the middle of a battlefield?” Rhys scoffed. “What a fine job you have done.”
“Forgive me, my lord. I advised Lady Camilla to remain in camp, but she would not listen to me.” He said. “However, considering what we discovered, I think you should listen to what she has to say.”
Rhys raised an eyebrow and Camilla sensed that her brother had been surprised by the statement at least as much as she had been. She didn’t know that the guard was there to watch her, the fact that he had been left behind solely to make sure she did not cause any trouble was infuriating, but she was grateful that he had vouched for the importance of what she had discovered.
“It’s important, Rhys.” She added.
“Important you say?” Rhys scoffed. “Go on then Camilla. Tell me what makes you believe coming to a battlefield was a smart decision. Because from my point of view, all you have done is once again, involve yourself where you do not belong.”
“Do you remember the knight?” She began. “The one travelling with the Greystone army?”
“Knight? What knight?”
“The knight at the meeting!” She nearly shouted at him. “The one who overheard all of the plans you made. Kaewyn brought him to the meeting. Him!”
Her brother shook his head and let out a frustrated sigh. “How is any of this relevant at all? I do not care what those who associate themselves with Kaewyn do or say… and neither should you. Why must everything be about him?”
“Rhys! The knight fled the camp.” She said firmly. “He knows our plans…”
“Wait a moment, are you saying…”
“We tried to stop him. So did Kaewyn, I think. The knight was being held at camp by some Greystone soldiers, but he broke out and stole a horse.”
“Where is he?” Rhys demanded as he stepped in close to her, a fiery look in his eyes. “Where is he, Camilla?”
“We tried to catch up to him, but… he made it to the barbarian camp. The one outside off Varde Castle.”
“Then he has already told them everything…” Rhys said ponderously. Her brother’s eyes became distant, thoughtful even. His momentary trance was broken when he spun around and screamed out in frustration.
“Kaewyn brought that knight into the meeting and vouched for him! I should have known better, that bastard spoke the barbarian tongue. I knew he couldn’t be trusted but I let Kaewyn convince me otherwise!” He shouted. “And now we all pay the price for his foolishness! If the barbarians know our plan, then General Falke will be riding straight into a trap.”
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” She asked softly, but her brother either ignored her or chose not to respond.
Rhys visibly shook as his face contorted into a rage. He moved away from her and walked toward a cluster of soldiers who quickly dispersed as he got close. He then balled his fists as he brought them up to his head and bumped them against his head repeatedly, letting slip a moan of agony and frustration. She had never seen her brother act like this before. She watched on as one of his men tried to offer comfort, but Rhys shoved the man aside and nearly sent him toppling over.
Barbarians!
The call to action sent everyone into a frenzy. Soldiers rushed to pick up their shields and moved to form defensive positions. Archers nocked their arrows and waited for orders, but Rhys hadn’t moved or said a word.
“Barbarian cavalry emerging from the Eastern tree line!” Another soldier called out. “Raise shields! They have bows!”
With Rhys seemingly unable or unwilling to act, a subordinate hesitated only a few moments more before giving the order for the archers to loosen their arrows upon the approaching riders. Moments after the archer’s volley had gone out, arrows began to fly back in return. Several sharp points embedded themselves into soldiers’ shields and many more fell harmlessly into the ground, either snapping or digging into the dirt and grass. Camilla felt her arm being pulled and was relieved to see that Edgren had managed to find a shield. He positioned himself and the shield in front of where the arrows were coming from and told her to stay low. She was more than happy to listen to him, but when she looked around, she noticed that Rhys still hadn’t moved. Several soldiers stood around him protectively but even she could tell that they needed direction. Their faces were not indicative of confident soldiers. They were worried and uncertain. Many of them looked to Rhys for leadership, but as far as she could tell he hadn’t said a word since the enemy had appeared.
Camilla tapped Edgren on the shoulder to get his attention and then told him to move toward Rhys. Judging by his expression, she figured he wanted to stay put, but to his credit, he began to get moving. An arrow suddenly embedded itself into Edgren’s shield with a thwack, startling them both. It had pierced several inches through the shield, but luckily it had missed his forearm by a hair’s width. Camilla continued on, following Edgren as he shuffled sideways. He did his best to keep the shield facing where the arrows were coming from, but every few seconds one would fall close enough to scare her. She didn’t know how anyone willingly faced such dangers all the time. She was terrified, but her respect for men such as Edgren increased every time an arrow landed nearby.
When she and Edgren managed to reach where Rhys was standing, the soldiers parted and allowed them to enter their protective wall of shields and bodies. Her brother was still unresponsive to the requests of his men, their pleas falling on deaf ears. Camilla was worried. It was not like her brother to freeze up under pressure. If Rhys did not act and take command of the situation, then it was entirely possible that they would be overwhelmed by the barbarian attack.
Camilla took a deep breath. Leaving the safety of Edgren’s shield, she approached her brother and placed a hand on his armoured shoulder, nudging him gently.
“Rhys?” She said just loud enough to hear over the panicked soldiers and whizzing arrows. “Rhys, can you hear me?”
When he did not respond, she pushed a little harder with her hand to get his attention. “Rhys, we need to find Kaewyn. If we tell him about the knight, maybe we can come up with another plan?”
Without warning, Rhys thrashed out of her arms. A sudden sting to her jaw and cheek sent her reeling. Her legs gave out from under her and caused her to fall onto her backside. Camilla looked up in a state of utter shock as Rhys loomed over her, his harsh eyes staring down at her without remorse. She touched a finger to her lip only to cause a fresh sting of pain. A drop of blood ran down the length of her finger and onto her palm as she pulled it away from her face. Camilla realised then that she was crying. Tears came unbidden and much like the blood on her finger, they began to run down her swollen cheek.
Rhys had never struck her before. Not even in their most heated of arguments had he ever raised a hand to her. They had screamed, shouted and cursed at each other as siblings do, and for all manner of reasons, but her brother hadn’t once resorted to physical means. It wasn’t like him, at least she didn’t think it was. Sitting on the ground with Rhys still looming over her, she was reminded in that moment of her late father. It was at that moment she recognised that her once sweet, carefree brother, had changed for the worse. He had become their father.
“Let that be a lesson to never go against my word again, you hear me!” He screamed at her. “Don’t ever tell me what to do!”
“Why…” Was all she could manage to get out as the pain throbbed, causing her to wince with every movement.
Rather than respond, her brother simply watched on as she struggled to try and get back to her feet. Camilla felt a strong grip on her shoulder and arm help her up, and realised that Edgren was there for her. The former mercenary’s face was full of concern, but he knew better than to involve himself more than simply helping her up. She didn’t want him to do so either. If Rhys was so volatile that he would hit even her, his own flesh and blood, she didn’t want to consider what he would do to a simple soldier who angered him.
Camilla looked at her brother as he stared back at her. There was no love in his eyes, no sign of regret or concern for her wellbeing. There was only rage. She averted her gaze. She couldn’t stand to look at him and receive only rage and hate in return. She hid her head against her shoulder as she felt Edgren’s arms around her protectively. Before she could even begin to process what had just happened, she heard her brother’s voice shouting out orders to the men.
“Everyone form up on me! We must fight our way Westward and make for the fort at once! Any stragglers will be left behind, now move!”