--- Lowan

There were few things Lowan hated more than coming back home.

He spent the days of the trip lost in gloomy thoughts, memories of his painful past and of his escape through the forests of Sinen. The feelings of his young self burned deeper into his heart mile after mile. He had never managed to get over them completely, despite the years. The best solution up to that point had been staying as far as he could from the castle, and especially from his detestable sister.

It's like I still expect to hear my father's hounds barking between the trees. Has he cursed me, back then? Or it's really all in my head?

On the way to Sinen, the commander met a courier who carried a second letter from Leanna. The woman, in her usual irritating fashion, said that she was delighted to hear of her little brother's men arrival and had even prepared some space for their camp outside her walls. That thought was enough to make Lowan frown, because she didn't even consider to allow the mercenaries inside. She was starting to resemble their father in a very worrying way.

There was no way of knowing what she would have done, in the event of the invasion reaching all the way to Sinen. What if she just left them to die, bashing on the gates like the hundreds of innocent people many years before? Lowan shook his head. That woman was ready to do anything in order to preserve her power, and her greed could have been potentially more dangerous than any enemy if she decided to reassess her priorities. Yet, that wasn't the first time he was forced to come back, and Leanna wasn't that stupid. Right now, he was the only one ready to defend her fortress from the invading horde.

As the company came in view of Sinen, built right between the hills, the commander sighed miserably.

"Cheer up, commander," exclaimed Palander, who rode at his side. "Still tormented by those old stories, are we?"

"I'd fight any Ekhar clan of your choice here and now," answered Lowan. "Rather than show up before my sister. That woman... Things haven't changed at all since the last time we came here, six years ago."

"Oh my, it's been that long? Has she built those new mills, I wonder?"

"I don't see any mill in town."

His friend laughed. "Man, I'm getting too old for this kind of stuff. Maybe I should retire once and for all."

Lowan had fought beside Palander countless times. He was pretty sure that a man like him, who jumped in every battle he could see, would never die of old age. But, against all odds, he had always survived and even ended up leading his own small company. The Red Lances, his loyal riders, had gone freelance after a long period of service among Lowan's mercenaries and had become pretty famous themselves. Gruff and noisy people, they looked like average soldiers at first glance but on the battlefield they turned into savage, bloodthirsty killers. Having them on his side, despite not liking their brutality, made the commander feel a bit relieved. Despite their small numbers, the mere presence of the Lances had always been enough to shake the morale of even the bravest of the enemies who had the misfortune of knowing who they were against. And that made them the perfect allies in a war with Ekhar, whose men were notorious for being nearly fearless.

"This place always looks the same," observed Lowan, glancing at the fortress where he was born. "I have to admit it, every time I come back here I have the slight hope that my sister-"

"Don't you even try that," Palander stopped him, waving his finger in denial. "I may be the son of a poor, illiterate woodcutter, but I'm not stupid. We both know that you could reclaim these lands in any moment. Wanna change things, Lowan? Then show that you have the guts to do it. As things stand, you don't have any right to complain."

The commander grumbled, speeding his pace.

***

Lowan crossed the gateway, entering the home of his ancestors. Accompanied by Palander and Wals, one of his infantry captains, he walked through the courtyard and the inner doors. Every stone and corner of the castle reminded him of the fateful nights spent in terror while the town was being destroyed by the people of the North. Pushing those thoughts aside, he strode towards the main hall avoiding the eyes of his sister's guards and followers.

Compared to the majority of the fortresses, Sinen certainly wasn't the largest. Its walls were sturdy, due to the constant wars in that region, but the interior contained what was essential to survive. Under the rule of Lowan's father the place was always half-lit, there were few servants and luxury was always kept to a minimum. Those were the only redeeming qualities that the commander could find in the old count, and Leanna didn't seem to have inherited them.

Since the moment of her appointment, in fact, the castle had been transformed into a den of intrigues, home to many unsavory characters who had all sworn loyalty to the new countess, happily bowing their heads to the power of money and to the iron fist of her personal army. Years of ruling had changed Leanna for the worse and her father's throne, something Lowan had refused in order to avoid the risk of becoming a tyrant himself, was now stitched onto her like a custom made dress. Nonetheless, the commander still kept watch and guaranteed for her moral integrity. As long as he drew breath, she wouldn't be able to do as she pleased. That was enough to keep her subjects relatively safe, because the pact had been signed in the presence of many other Lords.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Finally the three men walked through the door of the main hall, a wide room lit by many expensive chandeliers, coming face to face with Leanna of Sinen.

Being a few years older than Lowan, her beautiful golden hair had started fading. Some wrinkles ruined her sharp, attractive face, partially hidden by elaborate make-up that mimicked the green of her exquisite garment, wrapped around her slim and seemingly weak body. An outsider would have easily fallen for her looks as she was a very handsome woman, skilled with words and able to melt the mind of any man stupid enough to meet her unprepared. In the past, many nobles and wealthy merchants had tried to win her heart and favor but in the end Leanna had always manipulated each and every one of them to her advantage, growing in power and prestige year by year.

She is definitely a dangerous person. Even more than the last time.

Lowan suspected that he was the only one who was still able to pull the reins of her rampant ambition, but even he didn't know how ruthless she could have become, given a couple of years. Sooner or later, a drastic decision would have been inevitable.

"Dear brother," she sang with her musical voice, while they were getting closer. "I have been eagerly awaiting your return."

Everyone in the hall gazed in their direction, following their advance towards the throne. Despite the uncomfortable atmosphere, the commander took his stand and replied with the firmest tone he could muster.

"My Lady Leanna, I salute you," he greeted. "We came here as fast as possible, as you asked. My men and I are ready to protect your lands from the northern invaders."

Makers, I've always hated the protocol. But I know she hates it as well.

The countess smiled, lifting one of her eyebrows. "Our lands, you mean? Don't be modest, brother. Our poor father would have been so sad to see his own son degrading himself like that."

Lowan ignored her poking, and tried to keep the conversation on track. The audience had already begun in the wrong way, and to be honest he was eager to get back to his camp. He was there to focus on real problems, not on the alleged regrets of a long dead tyrant.

"That is not for you to judge, sister. I came all this way for a specific reason," he noted, glaring at her. "I suppose your news about the enemies are reliable. An astute person like you would never risk-"

"Our scouts are trustworthy," stepped in a balding man, wearing an armor. "It's a pleasure to see you, My Lord."

Commander Charsa, the head of Leanna's army. He was a former mercenary, of the kind Lowan wasn't happy to see. Before serving his sister, that man was essentially a bandit who had been smarter than many other cutthroats, by selling his services to the right people. Swearing his loyalty to Sinen had been his ultimate move to avoid the hanging, or so it seemed. As for why the countess had decided to recruit such a piece of trash, that was a mystery, since giving any form of authority to a low-born criminal was definitely a bad idea.

He was probably the most ruthless man she could find on the market at the time. I can't interfere with her management, however. Who she hires is not my business, as long as she respects our pact.

After a moment of hesitation, Lowan shook hands with Charsa and addressed the countess once again.

"Now that I'm here, I need a full picture of our situation. How many men we can deploy, how many can our enemies throw at us, supposedly. I also want to recruit volunteers from the people of Sinen and the villages, to use them as a workforce. In the event of an attack before the winter I'll also need reports about the status of our defenses, to see what needs to be rebuilt," he ordered. "We are keeping the clans as far as possible from the towns."

"Good thinking, my good brother," chuckled Leanna. "Fit for such a skilled commander. Don't worry, you'll have everything you ask, and the full assistance of my men."

"Marvelous."

"Indeed."

She clapped her hands, signaling the end of the audience. The mercenaries quickly bowed and turned around.

Finally, I was starting to choke with all this damn smoke.

"One last thing," said the countess, stopping her brother. "I'm thinking of inspecting your soldiers first thing tomorrow, if you don't mind. After all, it's just a natural thing that I meet the brave defenders of our walls, isn't it?"

Lowan faced her one last time, grumbling, "Always a pleasure... Sister."

Their looks met. For a second, the commander felt the icy gaze of Leanna's blue eyes piercing his body like a physical, tangible presence. Then he lowered his head and marched away.

I knew it. I'm never ready to come back here, no matter how many years pass.

The three men left the room accompanied by some lively murmuring. At least, their passage had left the court something to talk about.

"We'll have to send out scouting parties of our own at once, commander," said Wals, a man who liked to play it safely, as they returned to the camp. "Vague news of enemy movements aren't enough. Knowing what they are planning should be our first concern."

"Ekhar is a tough opponent," agreed Palander. "My Lances will answer your call even in the dead of the night if you need them. Just rely on our people, however, if you need some scouting. I don't trust your lovely sister nor her slimy men."

Lowan remained silent. At the end of their audience Leanna had pushed him near the point of anger but not beyond it, thankfully. He didn't like the idea of fighting beside that Charsa either, but if he knew his stuff there was probably a way to make him useful.

Or at least, to prevent him from getting in our way.

His lieutenants were already a couple of steps ahead of Sinen's forces. For what they knew, Ekhar could have been attacking in every moment. Yet, there was something encouraging in his sister's calm attitude. After all, she didn't act that cocky when the danger was near, so maybe time was on their side.

What if this war makes her grow out of our father's shadow? I want to give her a chance to redeem herself... But can I afford it?

When the doors of Sinen closed behind their backs, Lowan took a deep breath. Like it or not, he was back at home. And he wasn't going anywhere else before being certain of its safety.