“Ren! Ren!”

Ferene turned her head, looking down, down, to see Cerise running towards her.

“You look good up here.” The princess commented, grinning up at Ferene on top of Riverbank.

The second day of her training, the stablemaster allowed Ferene to ride the horse, teaching her basics. Now, four days after that, she felt mostly comfortable mounted, if she still had a sense of not belonging. Despite the praise from the princess, Ferene was sure she looked out of place. Someone of her background had no place riding such an animal.

“Did something happen?” Ferene asked, bringing the animal to a stop near the princess. When she relaxed her grip on the reins, Riverbank took a few extra steps forward, nuzzling at the shorter woman, who rubbed his snout.

“Everyone is assembled. We can depart tomorrow. You’ll have to leave this one behind.”

Riverbank snorted and turned away from the princess. Ferene wasn’t sure if he understood what she said or was simply disappointed at not being given any treats. “Are you ready?” She asked, pulling the horse to a stop and swinging her leg over, smoothly sliding out of the saddle. Largo had commented that she was good at doing that.

“No, but I won’t be in charge. This will be a learning experience, with General Deklan letting me observe him.”

“Deklan is Wellent’s general?” Cerise nodded at Ferene’s question. This would be the third general she would meet, after Taradira and the old man in Olentor. Ferene wondered what Deklan was like. “How many people?”

“Come with me and I’ll show you.” Ferene turned around, looking at Riverbank. Largo had started talking to the horse, bowing to the two women.

“A hundred and twenty foot soldiers from Olentor, plus thirty cavalry. Add to that two hundred of our own foot soldiers and fifty of our own cavalry. The general had the fort scouted, and thinks there are at most a hundred inside.”

Cerise and Ferene stood on the wall again, like they had several nights ago, but now they both looked at the plains outside the city, where the army stood. While it was nothing compared to the tent city that stood beside Ettsgras, the collection of men and horses that waited outside of Wellent dwarfed the force of Hatharen Ferene had marched with in the north. Once again she felt a sense of being outside of her element. She would join these men in assaulting a fortress.

“Is there a plan? What should I do?”

“Deklan has the battle plan. It is very simple. Numbers and intimidation. Showing a force stronger than theirs, and more prepared, should force a quick surrender. If not, the small number of defenders will make a short siege easy. They are not prepared to defend against an attack of this scale and so won’t have proper countermeasures to stop our forces from pushing to the wall and scaling it. If they try to run, our cavalry should be able to deal with them.”

Ferene could only nod. Was that correct? She didn’t know. “And me?”

“You’re free to do whatever you wish. General Deklan is confident in winning through simple numerical advantage. What do you think would be best for you to do?”

Her only other experience that could come close to this was north of the mountains, waiting on the outskirts of a battle to pick off groups that tried to escape. If cavalry were assigned that role, she would have to find something else to do. “I’ll figure it out when I see it.”

The combined Wellent and Olentor soldiers marched south later that day. Ferene kept close to Cerise, who stayed close to General Deklan and the three captains - two from Wellent, one from Olentor. Deklan himself turned out to be far more impressive than his counterpart in Olentor - slightly taller than Ferene, with a long mane of dark hair reaching past his shoulders. He wore a sword on his belt and looked like he knew how to use it, if he needed to.

Rather than traveling in the extravagant wagon she had used to get to and from Olentor, Cerise rode on a horse, just like the general and the captains. Ferene chose to walk, declining the offer of borrowing a horse. She told them she couldn’t fight from horseback. While she wasn’t far from Cerise during the journey, the princess ended up talking with the general, who rode beside her. Ferene wasn’t sure what they were discussing, but she could only assume it was a continuation of the young lady’s studies.

This group was at the center of the long column of the procession. Wellent’s cavalry rode at the front, followed by Wellent’s foot soldiers, then Ferene, Cerise, General Deklan, and the three captains. After them came Olentor’s foot soldiers, followed by Olentor’s small group of cavalry. The two groups of soldiers each had a number of wagons in their midst, carrying supplies. Ferene found it mesmerizing, seeing so many people all moving in the same direction. She tried to imagine what it would be like to see the entirety of Taradira’s army at Ettsgras do the same, but couldn’t visualize it.

When they arrived in the city near the border, the entire group stopped. Deklan met with a scout for what was the final update on the situation.

“We are splitting our force into three parts here. The Olentor cavalry will go forward and set up a loose perimeter around the fort. While the structure itself is our main goal, we must also punish the current occupants. It will take long enough for our full force to march on their position that they could flee. After Olentor’s cavalry, Wellent’s own will follow, revealing themselves. While they have no chance of taking the fort, the situation is reversed for a fight in the open. With them pinned down, the main force can approach and take the fort.”

“What kind of fort is it?” Ferene asked. All of them turned to look at her. Cerise was the one that spoke first.

“There’s a five-sided stone wall, with towers on each corner. Any structures inside are smaller than the wall itself.”

Ferene nodded. Despite knowing that these were former soldiers who turned to a life of crime, she still envisioned something like the abandoned village, or a series of caves. More usual hideouts. The general’s plan involved men scaling the wall as a large group, numbers allowing them to protect the climbers and then overwhelm the defenders. They were relying on the enemy not having proper numbers or equipment to defend themselves from the assault. Ferene’s own knowledge told her this was correct - a group doing what these were would never think to have to deal with a threat like an army attacking them.

The entire company set up camp outside the city. Cerise explained to Ferene that it would look like a simple movement of forces to the southern border as a defensive action, so that until they left the city the next morning, there was no reason for the outlaws to think themselves the target.

After days of marching, they finally arrived at their destination. The walls of the fort loomed tall on the horizon for hours. The structure’s height rivaled the proper castles of Wellent and Olentor, but lacked the area of those two. A small town could probably fit inside it.

As they approached, they met up with the man leading the cavalry, who reported that they had seen activity on the walls but none of the occupants had made attempts to flee. The mass of soldiers spread out, taking up position across two of the five walls, pulling supplies out of the wagons and setting up ladders.

Deklan claimed a small knoll on the northeast as his command post, within sight of the fort but far from danger. Cerise and one of his captains joined him there, the other two joining the forces readying their assault on the wall. Five soldiers stood guard around the general, with horses nearby, ready to run orders if the need arose. He confidently claimed it wouldn’t be needed. Cerise’s own guards also waited nearby - Illrich had quietly followed Cerise on the trip south, mostly staying out of her way and watching from a distance, letting Ferene stand behind the princess.

Looking out over the open field in front of her, Ferene took stock of the situation on her own. The grass was overgrown, coming up past the mens knee’s, and in some places even to their waists. There was a path leading from the main gate on the eastern wall, but Deklan’s men were preparing to assault the two northern walls. The gate drew her attention - she wanted to take a closer look at it, but avoided approaching the fort. She could approach it during the assault, when the defenders were busy with the army.

“Princess, are you sure you wish to stay here?” Illrich asked.

“I will watch this be carried out. It all started because of me, and I have a duty to see it through to the end.”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Very well, your highness.”

Taking her sword off her back, Ferene placed it on the ground in front of her. Drawing her short sword from her belt, she placed it below the first. Her clothes were new, and even her armor was more polished, but her weapons still carried the wear of all their use. Her sword was sharp, despite the various scratches on the flat of it. The man who gave it to her told that if she used it wrong, she would be haunted by the dead people watching the blade. Relgren told her the truth, about the Knights of Resh and what they did. Using it to take back one of the things made by those knights felt right, in a way. While the dead former owners of the sword would never know she was doing it, part of her wanted to think this was what they would want her to do.

With a deep breath, she collected both weapons, returning them to their places.

The assault started quietly. With the cavalry waiting in the back, out of the way but ready to attack if needed, the soldiers advanced. Holding shields upwards, squads slowly crept forward holding ladders. The protection seemed unnecessary - whatever defenders may have waited on top of the wall did not launch any projectiles downward to stop the threat. If they had, a much larger group of soldiers waited to return fire. Ferene watched this, and ran towards the gate, moving far faster than the organized, cautious push of the humans.

Two large wooden doors blocked the entryway to the fort, one of them tilted, the base sunken into the ground below. The other stood upright, but no handle was present on it. Throwing her weight against it, Ferene felt it give ever so slightly.

Looking northward, Ferene saw the soldiers drawing closer, more than halfway to the walls now, still with no response from within. Looking at the gates, Ferene examined the gap made by the state of disrepair, spotting a bar spanning the two doors. Taking her short sword, she pushed the tip against the bar and wiggled it, feeling it slide to one side slightly more than the other. Slowly, with the small space available to her, a gap the width of two fingers, she started moving the drawbar aside.

Her actions did not draw any response from the other side. To her side, she saw the men finally reach the wall, swinging their ladders upwards. As the men started climbing, she looked past them, towards the hill where Cerise and Deklan watched over the would-be battle.

The oddity of the lack of response finally made sense. The fort had been taken by former soldiers, so the assault was being treated like a military action. Soldiers would have tried to surrender, or fought out of a sense of duty. Ferene turned, looking towards the back of the formation along the northwest wall, spotting the captain in charge. She started running towards him.

If you cornered a criminal, they would act out of spite. If they knew they had no chance of living, they would strike out in desperation, trying to hurt you in any way they could, either with words or with actions. They didn’t fight for a country or a leader, they weren’t defending people with their lives. They would not draw out a prolonged fight. They did what they did because they did not value life. The people that had attempted to kidnap Cerise, the people that were extorting villages in the area - they were no longer soldiers. They were just well trained criminals. Which made them possibly more dangerous. They would strike out in anger, but with precision, to spite anyone who dared to cross them.

As she ran, she saw movement at the hill. Any hideout needed a second exit. The hill stood out as the only thing in the field surrounding the fort.

The handful of soldiers and small number of Cerise’s royal guards stood no chance. Ferene watched, her feet slamming into the ground as she ran as fast as she could. The fighting did not last long - she saw the figures suddenly appear on top of the hill, overwhelming the group that was unprepared for any fighting.

She arrived beside the captain, and next to him stood a horse, a woman in a dark red uniform mounted on it. “Give me your horse, now.” She demanded, pointing at the hill. “I need to get there.

“Do what she says.” The captain said, turning towards his men and shouting at them. The rider dismounted, and Ferene vaulted onto the steed, grabbing the reins and pressing her heels into the animal’s sides, making a dash for the hill.

Ferene specialized in running. Something about her physique made her better at running, and running always felt natural to her. Luck gave her this unique advantage.

The horse, however, was the result of generations of breeding for speed and power. Linara had talked about how valuable one of these horses were, but Ferene hadn’t seen them move at full speed before. Now, she felt it, the power of the animal underneath her as it flew through the tall grass.

By the time she crested the hill, the fighting had transformed. She wasn’t the only one to notice the fighting on the hill, and Wellent’s own cavalry had reacted as well, breaking from their perimeter positions to converge on the hill. The men from the fort had started a retreating fight against them, but it wasn’t going well. Ferene ignored that, dismounting and looking around the carnage.

Cerise was not hard to find. She lay face-down on the ground, a sword, with a disembodied hand still holding it, sticking out of her back. Coming to a stop, Ferene stared at the sight, her heart pounding. In that moment, time seemed to stop. Her mouth was dry. Cerise was dead. Deklan lay not too far away. Illrich was also there, his body fallen on top of one of the people from the fort.

Anger surged in her, greater than anything she had felt in a very long time. Turning, she looked across the real battlefield, opposite the fort itself. The mounted troops were outnumbered, but still holding their own, with more arriving. The idea that just the cavalry would be enough to fight the fort’s defenders on an open field was holding up. Beyond the fighting, further north, Ferene saw several riders going away from the fighting, rather than towards it. Throwing herself back onto her borrowed horse, Ferene once again urged it onwards, her eyes locked on those figures.

The difference in speed was staggering. Even taking a path around the ongoing fighting, Ferene’s mount quickly closed the gap between itself and the fleeing riders. Holding the reins in one hand, she drew her short sword. She did not know how to fight from horseback, but that didn’t matter to her. Her eyes locked on the back of the nearest criminal, her sword held horizontally, point aimed forward. Her horse did not slow down, and with an extra thrust, the weapon slammed into the man’s back, piercing his torso, and being pulled out of Ferene’s hand as she overtook him. Ferene growled to herself, turning her horse’s head towards the next target. Letting go of the reins, she squeezed her knees around the sides of her horse, hoping she’d stay on, and awkwardly drew the sword from her back.

As she overtook the second rider, she swung her sword, rather than stabbing, leaving a deep cut across the man’s back. She did not look back. The noise seemed to finally draw the attention of the third man, who looked back and saw Ferene. He shouted something to the others, who also looked back. One by one, they pulled back on their horses, slowing down and spreading out. Ferene, holding her oversized sword to the side in one hand, grabbed the reins to do the same.

Rage filled her, but part of her told her this was a fight she could not win. She did not know how to fight from horseback, and dismounting would only allow them to kill her horse and flee. They didn’t know that she lacked the knowledge needed to fight them, so she waited, glaring.

Moments past, the six waiting for Ferene to make a move, all of them cautious about approaching. Then, one laughed, taking a bow off her back. Ferene kicked her horse, charging the woman. Her mount reacted quickly, surging forward. With a one handed swing, Ferene brought her sword down on the woman’s head. Her target leaned to the side at the last second, but the weapon still buried itself in her shoulder, pulling her off her horse as Ferene passed. The other five were slower to react, all of them rushing after Ferene as she yanked her sword free. A man wielding a half-spear got to her first, thrusting his weapon forward and stabbing Ferene in the rib cage, her one-handed grip on her sword leaving her unable to intercept the attack in time.

Shouting in pain, she dropped her sword, grabbing the weapon as the man pulled it out of her. Ferene yanked, hard, and the man tipped forward, releasing before he was pulled off his mount. Ferene flipped the spear around in her hand and shoved the point back at the former owner as he was still righting himself.

The remaining four were on her, then, one swinging an axe at her. Ferene twisted, bringing her new weapon up to intercept the attack. As the axe made contact with the haft of the spear, it sunk into the wood. A heartbeat later she was struck in the chest with a club, knocking the breath from her lungs and her from her saddle. She hit the ground rolling, trying to breathe as she came to her feet just in time to see her now-riderless horse rear up, striking the attacker’s horse with its hooves. Ferene heard a crack as the other animal fell to the ground, sending the rider that struck her flying.

Looking at the three remaining foes, Ferene stood up, weaponless, having dropped the spear when she was struck. As she stared at the three of them, the sound of beating hooves filled the air. All of the combatants turned, seeing ten riders, fully armored, charging at them. With a shout, the three that were still mounted turned and fled, and Ferene drew her knife from her boot, looking to the downed rider. The man was pushing himself to his feet, drawing a sword of his own. Ferene dashed forward, sidestepping his sluggish lunge at her, and stabbed her knife into his eye.

The cavalry rushed past her, pursuing the last few fleeing fort defenders. Ferene took a deep breath, and collected her sword from where it fell. With the familiar weight once again on her back, she returned to her horse and walked with the animal over to retrieve her other weapon, before mounting the animal and riding back towards the hill in the distance.

“Completely hidden before.” The captain - Renate - said, looking at the large hole in the side of the hill. “Impossible to see from the outside.” The tunnel was more than large enough to allow two horses to walk side by side, and lead all the way to the inside of the fort. Bits of dirt and grass lay around the entrance, along with a metal framework. “I think the people who built the fort made the hill to hide the exit. Every time they used it they’d have to plant the grass again and wait months before it looked natural. A lot of work for a path that can only be used to leave.”

The other standing captain nodded. The two that were overseeing the attack directly had gotten by unscathed. The last captain, who was with Deklan and Cerise, had survived, barely. He sat on a stool retrieved from one of the wagons, shirtless with bandages wrapped around his torso. The ambushers from the fort had left him for dead. One of Cerise’s guards also managed to survive, but was in no condition to speak. The rest of the group had not been so lucky. The bandits had even killed the horses.

“We secured the fort and eliminated all the defenders.” A lieutenant said.

“That won’t matter when we return to Wellent to say that the princess and the general are both dead.” Renate snapped. He seemed to have taken command. Turning to the other captain, he started issuing orders. “Gather up the forces from Olentor and half of our own. I’ll go back and make the report. You’re in command of the fort. We still have to prepare it for our own use.”

The other man turned and stepped away, consulting one of the red-clad horsemen. Renate turned to her. “You were the princess’s pet?” Ferene could only nod. She didn’t want to talk. “Since you’re wearing the uniform, you’re now under my command. You’re coming back with us.”