The mighty fall at last, they are as dust before the wind.”
By first light, Ezekiel led his Raiders along the old forest road north to seize and secure Fort George. He rode on his brown destrier in his armor in the colors of black and bronze with his signature red cloak. His two-handed greatsword eased into its scabbard on the swordsman's back.
As they rode deeper into the forest, the skies turned into dreary streaks of grey clouds. Soon the Raider Unit spotted the sight of rotting corpses hanging from the trees swinging in the cool breeze. The men cringed as the stench of rotting flesh on the wind violently attacked their senses, and others could not bear to witness this terrible sight.
At the center of the column, Mifune and Leonhart rode adjacent to each other. The young man felt his stomach turn and had to cover his mouth with his right hand. Mifune rode steadily on his courser, his face was like stone. “A bitter crop for the black crows to harvest.” Mifune said.
“What kind of monster would do this?” asked Michael.
“We did this. We put them here, boy.”
“What?”
“These men were bandits, rapers, murderers. They’re not deserving of our sympathy.”
“They’re still human beings, Mifune. Made of the same dust as you and I.”
“If they're made of the same dust then let them be a sharp lesson for the living. Whatever caused these men to be led astray; it was the noose that awaited them.”
Mifune’s words left Leonhart to ponder on everything he had done since leaving home. The people he rode with, the people he once called family, and the very same family that left him to die beneath the sun then he thought of the people he had hurt. Now they're rotting in the sumner breeze for the crows to pluck. That would've been me if I stayed, the thought chilled him. His mouth twisted bitterly. He took a deep breath. He spurred his horse to a faster pace.
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It was midday and the smell of rain was on the wind by the time the company made it to the old holdfast. The walls were once thick and sturdy but the once mighty walls are decrepit and rotting to nothingness before the wind. It was punched with holes from siege weaponry. Four watchtowers stood at each corner of the fort, two were half-destroyed while the other appears to be in pristine condition. The moat was mossy green and blue, the fishes lept out to catch bugs.
***
The company made camp outside of Fort George. The men stoke the flames of the campfire. Ezekiel leaned back on an old tree, watching his men share drinks, exchanging tall tales from afar. Mifune emerged from the shadow of the tree like a white specter.
“Goddamn it, man! Next time, use your words.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Mifune said dryly.
Ezekiel playfully punched Mifune in the arm. “How’s the boy been adjusting?” inquired Ezekiel.
“He knows very little of life. He knows nothing of war but he’s quick with his wits. His true test will be on the battlefield.”
“That may happen soon enough,” Ezekiel spoke in a low, conspiratorial voice, “after this farce, we regroup with the Soldier King’s host, and we march on White Castle of Morningstar.”
“Charles is making his move already? And this so soon?”
“Yeah, that’s the way the wind is blowing. The Old Man is losing the war he has to elected to start.”
“If we seize White Castle then what? The surrounding ladies and lords won't tolerate a man without an ounce of nobility in his blood.”
“They're too caught up in their own feuds and petty squabbles to even care. It's honorable to avenge fallen kin. It's blood for blood.”
Mifune spat, “Sure it is.”
Ezekiel and Toshiro stood together and watched the embers from the campfire dance under the white moonlight. A cold whistling pierced through the wind, snuffing out the embers, and blotting out the moon. A dozen of men let out a bloodcurdling wail that echoed throughout the night sky. The earth began to rumble and shake, the cries of warhorses were emerging from the dark forest, charging into the light of the camp. Ezekiel and Toshiro withdrew their steel from their sheathes.