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Ruler of Avalon
Chapter 4 - Bandits

Chapter 4 - Bandits

As the sun dipped low over the horizon, casting long shadows across the rolling hills on the edge of Ventenia territory, Marcus stood before Ancus in the grand hall of the estate.

"Marcus," Ancus said, his voice firm and authoritative, "there have been reports of organized bandits causing skirmishes on the outskirts of our territory. The guard commander believes they are becoming a nuisance, disrupting trade routes and threatening our people."

Marcus listened attentively, nodding as Ancus continued. "I need you to organize a group, assess the situation, and report back to me. The guard commander will accompany you to oversee the operations and ensure that accurate reports are filed."

Marcus spoke, trying to reserve a formal tone. "Wait what does this have to do with me?" "Why can't they make the report?"

Ancus folded his hands together. "Think of it as an opportunity to gain first-hand experience." Ancus shrugged, "Do you really want to be a steward-assistant forever?" "Maybe it's time you upgraded, yes?"

Marcus hesitantly agreed, meeting Ancus's gaze. "Yes, Master Ancus. I will do my best."

Ancus nodded once, his approval implicit yet reserved. "Good. The guard commander will brief you on the details and provide you with the necessary resources. Report to me as soon as you have any significant updates."

With that, Ancus strode away, leaving Marcus and the guard commander alone in the hall. The guard commander, a seasoned veteran with a weathered face and a no-nonsense demeanor, approached Marcus with a reassuring nod.

"Marcus, I'm Commander Gaius," he introduced himself, extending a hand.

Gaius was a man of robust build and stature, standing tall with a commanding presence that befitted his role as the Guard Commander of Ventenia. Gaius possessed piercing eyes that seemed to miss nothing, constantly scanning his surroundings with a vigilant gaze.

"We'll get this sorted out swiftly. Follow me, and we'll discuss the bandit activity and our plan of action."

They moved to a side chamber where maps spread across a large wooden table. Commander Gaius pointed to various points on the map, detailing recent skirmishes and suspected bandit hideouts.

"These bandits seem organized," Gaius explained, his voice low and serious. "They strategically place obstacles on roads and merchant routes and then ambush them."

"Furthermore, they strike fast and disappear into the hills. Our patrols have had difficulty tracking them, but we believe they have a base camp somewhere here." He tapped a location on the map marked with a small symbol.

Marcus studied the map, his mind racing with the responsibility placed upon him. "What's our strategy, Commander?"

Gaius glanced at Marcus, his eyes appraising. "We'll organize a small patrol, move discreetly through the hills, and gather intelligence on their movements. No direct engagement unless absolutely necessary. You'll be accompanying us to observe and report back to Master Ancus."

Marcus nodded, absorbing the plan. "Understood, Commander. When do we depart?"

"Before dawn," Gaius replied briskly. "We'll gather our men and be ready to move out under cover of darkness. Prepare yourself, Marcus. This won't be an easy task, but it's essential to protect Ventenia's borders."

The night passed swiftly, and before dawn, Marcus stood at the back of a small group of guards, their faces set with determination. Commander Gaius gave a final briefing, outlining their route and objectives.

"Remember," Gaius emphasized, his voice carrying over the murmur of the men, "we gather information first. Report back any significant findings to Marcus, who will relay them to Master Ancus."

Marcus was placed in leather armor, "Just for caution," Gaius said.

Under the cover of darkness, they set out into the hills, their footsteps muffled by the soft earth. The cool night air brushed against their faces as they moved with stealth, eyes scanning the terrain for any signs of movement.

As they approached the area marked on the map, Marcus felt a surge of adrenaline. He glanced at Gaius, giving a reassuring nod before signaling the group to spread out and take defensive positions.

Hours passed in tense silence as they observed from their concealed vantage points. The first light of dawn painted the sky in a hue of pink, casting long shadows across the landscape. Suddenly, a faint sound caught Marcus's attention—a rustling in the underbrush, followed by the distant murmur of voices.

Marcus held his breath, signaling for silence among the men. They waited, tense and alert, as figures emerged from the trees—a small group of bandits, lightly armed and moving with purpose. Marcus's heart raced as he watched them, taking mental notes of their numbers and direction.

After seemingly an eternity, the bandits moved out of sight, disappearing into the hills. Marcus turned to Gaius, who nodded approvingly at the information gathered.

"We'll report back to Master Ancus," Gaius instructed quietly. "Inform him of what we've observed. We'll continue monitoring their movements and prepare for the next phase."

The passage back to the estate was quieter than their journey to the bandit camp. Upon their arrival, Marcus wasted no time in seeking out Ancus. The estate was already bustling with morning activity as workers and servants did their duties. Ancus was in his study, poring over scrolls and maps, when Marcus entered with Gaius at his side.

"Master Ancus," Marcus began, his voice steady and respectful. "We've conducted a successful reconnaissance mission on the bandits plaguing the outskirts of Ventenia."

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Ancus looked up from his work, his expression betraying a hint of surprise at Marcus's assertiveness. "And what did you find?" he inquired, his tone guarded but curious.

"We located their camp and observed their activities," Marcus explained, delivering a detailed account of their encounter with the bandits.

"I see," Ancus murmured after a moment, tapping his fingers on the desk.

"Your initiative is commendable, Marcus. Inform Gaius to prepare an attack."

Marcus blinked in wonder at Ancus's sudden directive. "Prepare an attack?" Marcus repeated, seeking clarification.

Ancus nodded solemnly. "Yes, we cannot allow these bandits to continue disrupting our territories. Gaius will lead a strike force, you've done your job well."

"Return any items borrowed from the guards and continue your stewarding duties," Ancus spoke as he returned to his documents, dismissing Marcus.

Days passed in a blur of work and stewarding. The granary had been completed and was functioning perfectly. Meanwhile, Gaius meticulously planned the assault. The bandits, unaware of the impending threat, continued their disruptive activities on the outskirts of Ventenia.

Gaius raised a hand, signaling the advance. The strike force moved out, navigating the rugged terrain towards the bandit camp.

As they neared the camp, the bandits' raucous laughter and careless chatter grew louder. Thirty bandits laughed and raised their cups of wine. Gaius signaled for a stealthy approach, guiding the strike force into position for a coordinated assault. Gaius gripped his sword tightly, steeling himself for the clash.

With a silent command, Gaius and his most skilled warriors unleashed the strike force upon the unsuspecting bandits. The air erupted in a cacophony of battle cries and clashing weapons as chaos erupted within the camp. They encircled the drunken bandits and forced them into a center.

Gaius found himself in the chaos. A burly man with wild eyes and a fine bronze sword charged recklessly at Gaius. Gaius sidestepped the attack with effortless agility, his leather boots barely stirring the dust-covered ground. In a swift motion, he parried the bandit's strike with his blade, the clash of steel ringing through the Ventenian hills.

Gaius pivoted and drove his shortsword into his opponent's gut.

The bandit staggered back, clutching his side as blood stained his tunic. Gaius seized the opportunity, rushing forward and slashing at the assailant's throat.

Before Gaius could breathe, a second attacker seized the opportunity to strike. This one was smaller but quicker, wielding a pair of cracked curved daggers with deadly proficiency. Gaius shifted seamlessly from defense to offense, blocking the flurry of strikes with his shield and deflecting the daggers' glinting edges.

The bandit pressed forward, his relentless assault driving Gaius back momentarily. Yet, Gaius countered with a sudden feint, causing the bandit to overextend. With one grand lunge, Gaius delivered a swift kick into his liver, sending the bandit to the floor.

Before the bandit could recover his position, Gaius closed the distance, driving his blade into the bandit's neck. Blood spurred from his mouth, a horrifying sight.

As the second bandit fell to the ground, Gaius stood amid the echoes of battle, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths.

Gaius noted a symbol painted on the bandit's armor, a five-pointed cross.

Maybe these bandits were even more organized than they thought, rallying themselves to a symbol.

By dusk, the bandit camp lay in ruins, its inhabitants scattered or captured. The strike force regrouped, battle-weary but victorious.

Back at the estate, Gaius reported the outcome of the operation to Ancus, who listened with measured satisfaction. The bandits had been dealt a decisive blow, their capacity for further disruption shattered.

Ancus nodded as Gaius detailed the skirmish. The old lord's face was inscrutable, betraying little emotion save for a flicker of acknowledgment at the mention of Gaius's strategic maneuvers.

"Well done, Gaius," Ancus finally spoke, his voice breathing no emotion.

"You handled the situation admirably."

"Thank you, Master Ancus," Gaius replied with a respectful nod. He stood before the ornate wooden desk in Ancus's study.

With a final nod of dismissal from Ancus, Gaius left the study, the weight of responsibility lifting slightly from his shoulders.

He made his way through the bustling courtyard of the estate, acknowledging the nods of respect from servants and guards alike.

Meanwhile, Marcus found himself near the fountain, the day's work leaving him tired yet satisfied. He noticed Anca sitting on the edge, her posture relaxed, eyes lost in thought. Gathering his nerve, he walked over.

"Good evening, Anca," he greeted, his tone respectful but casual.

Anca looked up, her expression softening as she recognized him. "Good evening, Marcus. Hows work?"

"Coming along well," Marcus replied, standing a few paces away. "The granary was finished today."

Anca nodded, a hint of admiration in her eyes. "I heard."

A brief silence settled between them, the sound of water from the fountain filling the air. Anca broke the silence, her tone curious. "What made you take this job, Marcus? It's not an easy life."

Marcus took a moment to think, scoffing before answering.

"Took the job?" "I was sold into slavery I was forced into this; Ancus just happened to be there to take me in."

Anca tilted her head, a touch of sympathy in her gaze. "I didn't hear of that part, all I heard was my father knew your mentor."

Marcus looked at her before asking a question. "What about you, Anca? What's your story?"

Anca's smile faded slightly, replaced by a more introspective look. "I've lived here all my life, always trying to meet expectations.

My mother died giving birth to Cassius, and ever since, Cassius has been the little fragment of my mother my father had. It's not easy being under constant scrutiny, but it's home."

Marcus nodded, understanding the weight of her words. "I can imagine. It must be challenging, but you've handled it with grace."

Anca laughed softly, the sound light and genuine. "Thank you, Marcus. I don't always feel graceful, but I try."

They shared a quiet moment, the mutual respect between them growing. Marcus felt a sense of ease, a comfort in Anca's presence that was rare for him.

"I should get some rest," Marcus said eventually, though he was reluctant to leave. "Tomorrow is another busy day."

Anca grabbed his wrist, "Wait."

Marcus stopped, surprised by the gentle grip on his wrist. He turned to face Anca, curiosity, and concern in his eyes.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

Anca's eyes met his, a flicker of vulnerability passing through them. "Just sit for a second longer, even if it's just silence." She let go of his wrist, her hand lingering before dropping to her side.

Marcus sat down in obedience, "Okay."

He watched Anca look up at the moon, avoiding her gaze. The night was calm, the air cool and refreshing after the day's heat. Marcus felt a strange sense of peace sitting there, the silence between them feeling more like a shared moment than a space.

Despite the many people around her, she often felt isolated and burdened by expectations. Marcus, with his resilience and straightforwardness, brought a refreshing change.

"Sometimes," Anca began quietly, "it's nice to just be with someone who doesn't expect anything from you."

Marcus nodded, understanding. "I get that. It's good to have someone to talk to, someone who listens."

Anca smiled, a genuine warmth in her eyes. "Thank you, Marcus. For listening."

Just then, a distant commotion echoed from the direction of the estate. Anca's expression shifted from contentment to concern as she stood up abruptly.

"Did you hear that?" Anca asked, her voice uneasy. Marcus nodded, his blood freezing as he prepared for whatever unexpected nightmare awaited them. The bond they had forged would be put to the test.