The army clashes against the walls and the gate, but the defenders throw rocks and shoot arrows from above and spit and curse with hate and excitement. After a short while, the retreat is sounded and the dying are left to scream at the gates, their last hope for revenge is now to haunt the dreams of the people who righteously defended themselves.

  While the defenders now cheer, there is no doubt that some will indeed be haunted by the lives taken. Sons will grow cruel and fathers will dull the pain with spirits, a drink with a deceiving name as it will foster demons within them which will soon be unleashed onto their blameless kin. But war is not done with them yet. The army makes camp, outside the reach of crossbows.

  For Anna it is her first time witnessing the death of someone close to her. She sobs softly while holding Jacob in her arms.

  Viper excuses himself from between his brothers who are trying to collect the arms and armors they had previously passed around. He removes the bloodstained and dented plates which kept him safe and then puts a warm hand on Anna’s back. As his hand wanders aimlessly he talks in a deep soothing hum:

  “It’s alright darling. This is just what happens to people like us. Take comfort that unlike most, he died bravely. With no fear and no regrets.”

  “But- He was such a good man. I hoped he would get to retire, not die like this!”

  “He’s not dead. I ordered him not to die. He’s a soldier through and through.” Jacob says in a monotone voice that sounds years beyond his age.

  “...”

  “...You spoke!” Viper exclaims and picks him up and spins him around. “You finally spoke!”

  “Viper! Don’t shake him like that!” Anna exclaims, the shock of Jacob’s sudden verbalisation starting to wear off a little.

  “Right, sorry.” He says sheepishly and puts the kid back down next to Anna. “I knew Jacob would get better! The kid’s as strong as an ox!”

  “I’m proud of you too, Jacob…” A soft smile wipes away her tears, but her eyes soon start to show anxiety. “Do you mind that I’m calling you Jacob?”

  They both await the reply with bated breath. They do not even hear the noise of the fortress anymore.

  Finally, a much softer voice than before says: “No… I don’t mind.”

  They both let out sighs that they never knew they were holding in.

  After calming down a little and talking a bit more, with occasional input from Jacob, they would go to find something to eat and a place to sleep.

  —Meanwhile, the others—

  The Knight Flayers are tired and beaten. The only things they could save were what was stuffed in the saddlebags of the donkey. Thankfully, that included most of their coin, but Rabbit is more thankful for the wineskin he had stuffed in there.

  He removes the cap and raises it for a toast: “To the old man.” And then he drinks it down in one go, not a thought of sharing crosses his mind.

  Landyn would much rather be living in the present: “How are you, Saul? Can you fight any time soon?”

  Saul, sitting against a wall and wincing in pain: “That damned old nag broke my arm! And a few ribs too, I think. I need both hands to cast spells.”

  “Fine then, rest for now. Thorvald, Kale, come with me… and try to look scary.”

  As they march through the busy crowd of wounded crying in the hands of loved ones and others trying to shore up defences or save their property in any way they can think of, the heavy footsteps of the three men grow louder and louder. Their plates of armor ring against the chainmail underneath, slowing gathering the attention of more and more people.

  Landyn climbs atop a market stall and addresses the people: “Everyone shut up! Your saviors have some words for you!”

  Not everyone is eager to listen to him. A few still carry on with their chattering; until Thorvald roars:

  “Quiet! Or I’ll flay you in front of your kin.”

  Landyn nods thankfully to his friend and then continues: “Ahem! We are the Knight Flayers! Those of you who were down in the village during the attack know well that we not only gave you arms to defend yourself, but even took command when your bailiff was shot down. We have already proven ourselves by merely getting so many of you into this fort! We will not live through this siege unless we fight united! We-”

  *Clap*; *Clap*; *Clap*.

  The woman who is mocking him is Vulpes of Winchillas, the noble’s daughter. Her eyes are as piercing as ever and her presence puts a knot in everyone’s throat.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “A moving speech, Sir Tanner. However, I believe a duke’s daughter far outranks a mercenary captain. I will be giving orders. You will be in my employ. Understand?” Authority in her every word and in her unflinching eyes.

  “Well, if the duke’s daughter pays well…” Landyn grins, trying hard to hide his anxiousness, but her eyes see right through him.

  “Ha! Of course. But those kinds of negotiations are best held behind closed doors, sellsword. Now, my subjects, reinforce the gates and man the walls in shifts. Prepare tar and stones to repel attacks. Await further orders. Sir Tanner, follow me. …Oh! And do bring your wounded man.” She points to Saul. “The healers are still in town, as luck would have it.”

  “Of course, my lady.”

  Landyn and Saul follow Vulpes of Winchillas and her many bodyguards which flank her on all sides. The glint of their armor is like hundreds of spotlights all pointing at her gentle figure wrapped in satin as she walks like a movie star between the huddled masses.

  They enter the bastion of the fortress and climb the narrow spiraling staircase up to a large banquet hall decorated lavishly in reddish and brown warm tones interrupted by the glitter of gold and silver tableware and ornaments.

  The two sellswords can’t help but be amazed by the wealth displayed by such a small fortress in the middle of nowhere, but the nobles are nonchalant about it.

  Lady Vulpes of Winchillas sits at the head of the table and crosses her legs. Then, with a stare which sees right through Landyn: “So, sellsword, or should I say Sir Tanner? *chuckle* I am the ruler of this fortress in the absence of the lord and chamberlain. I can’t have you or your men giving orders, understand?”

  Landyn feels strangely uptight and can’t maintain the carefree facade he usually fakes in negotiations: “Y-Yeah, of course. Ahem.”

  Vulpes let’s the silence soak in just long enough to make the sellsword even more nervous, then: “Good. You and your men will be paid 300 coins for every day of the siege. If you end the siege within the month you will receive your pay for the rest of the month and a bonus of 1000 coins. Sound good?”

  Landyn tries to regin his composure, but the sheepishness remains in his voice: “...My men require more money, Lady Winchillas-”

  “Vulpes.” She interrupts coldly.

  “Pardon?”

  “Call me Vulpes, Sir Tanner.” She grins playfully and briefly twirls her orange hair around her finger.

  Landyn is clearly stunned as well as his men. Even the knights escorting the Lady turn to stare.

  “Y-Yes, of course. …Vulpes, I pay my company 250 crowns every day in wages, which leaves me with only 50 crowns for supplies and profit.”

  “Fine then, 400 coins it is. But only because you’re so knightly.” She smirks and winks, making Sir Tanner turn red in the ears.

  “Thank you, La- Vulpes.”

  “So!” She stands up suddenly and grabs a map from a cupboard behind her which she unfurls on the table. It portrays the fortress and surrounding features. She points to a barren hill: “Here is their camp. Here is Treblin Fort. Any advice, Sir Tanner?”

  One of her bodyguards, a young knight as they all are, is offended at the Lady’s words and can’t help but interrupt: “My Lady! How could you possibly ask a mere mercenary for advice? He is not a learned man nor a chivalrous knight. We are all more than willing to give you advice.”

  Vulpes’s face contorts into a scowl as she stares down the knight who seems to shrink under her gaze despite belittling her moments before. “Sir Robert Leiner, did you seriously just interrupt a discussion between your liege and her guest?”

  The man’s face grows pale as horror sets in. “N-No! My liege, please have mercy!”

  She spots an occasion to play with the insubordinate knight and a mischievous grin replaces her scowl: “By rights you should receive ten lashes of the whip for your actions, however…” She lingers in the silence and sees hope enter the man’s eyes as he waits with bated breath. “We do need as many fighting men as possible…”

  “Haa, thank you-”

  “Five lashes. And half a day in the stocks, for interrupting me again just now.” She smiles like the devil. “Take him away, knights. Oh, and escort the wounded sellsword to the healers’ too while you’re at it. Leave me and Sir Tanner to discuss our business in peace.”

  The young man has no words of protest, he just starts bawling his eyes out. This kind of humiliation will tarnish his reputation and follow him the rest of his life. Saul can’t help but giggle at the knight as he limps out the door.

  “So, Sir Tanner, your advice?”

  “Oh? Yes, of course.” He was so focused on reading the map that he was startled by her addressing him. He did not find her display of noble power out of the ordinary. “I advise that you have the peasants surrender all food to your men so it may be rationed fairly. Then from among the commoners find willing volunteers for manning the wall. Have them pile rocks up on the walls to throw down at attackers’ heads as they attempt to climb. Also, most importantly, there is need for a group that is willing to sortie at night every few days or so to scare the enemy and keep them on their toes.”

  “Hm. Standard advice. I was expecting more from a mercenary. I’d heard you use unconventional tactics and such.”

  “Well, I do have an idea… but I don’t know if I should suggest that to a Lady.”

  “You are paid 400 coins per day and that is still not enough to loosen your tongue? There’s still room in the stocks, you know?”

  “Ahem, well then… we could have the archers dip their arrows in feces to cause festering wounds. This will exhaust their healers’ magic more quickly.”

  She grins wide: “Very good, sellsword. I’d like to see a learned man come up with that…”

  “Thank you, La- Vulpes.”

  “Any more ideas?”

  “We should be careful of knights with powers that let them charge through solid objects. We should have spears buried behind the gate, pointed at the height of a horse’s heart. And behind them another set of redoubt barricades.”

  “That’s good, but not quite enough. I will also have my knights stationed near the gate so they are always ready for a fight.”

  “Good. I will keep my men ready as well.”

  “No, you shall have them rest. You will be the ones sortieing out at night.”

  “Uhh… of course, but we only have five warriors, if Saul can fight tonight.”

  “Do not worry, my healers are taking good care of him right now.”

  “It is still very dangerous to sortie with so few men. I must protect my company.”

  “Fine then, have your pick of another five men from among any of the men in the fort. Except my knights, that is.”

  “Thank you very much, Lady Vulpes.”

  “Vulpes.”

  “Yes, Vulpes.”

  “Good. Now go and rest. Night will be here before you know it.”

  “Alright, thank you. Goodbye.”

  “Oh! Congrats on finally unlocking your innate magic, Sir Tanner. I assume it was tough being the only one in your company to not be a half-knight.”

  “Huh?” The door slams on his back before he can formulate a coherent question.