Chapter 14: Into the Northern Plains

The night air was heavy with an eerie silence, broken only by the soft rustling of the trees and the distant call of night creatures. Akin's heart raced as he led his men through the dense forest that bordered the northern road. The light of their torches flickered in the breeze, casting shadows that seemed to twist and writhe among the trees, as if the very forest was alive and watching their every move.

Beside him, Garrick rode in silence, his face set in a grim expression. Behind them, the rest of Akin's soldiers followed closely, their weapons at the ready. They were a small but well-trained force, chosen specifically for this mission. Akin had learned early on that a large force would only attract attention, and in this case, stealth and speed were their greatest allies.

Akin's mind raced as they moved deeper into the woods. He could still see the devastation left behind at the ambush site—the broken wagons, the bodies of soldiers who had died protecting the envoy. Lord Renold, the man he had sent to negotiate with the northern lords, was still missing. If the rebels had captured him, Akin feared what might come next.

"We should have reached them by now," Garrick muttered, his eyes scanning the darkness ahead.

Akin nodded, his grip tightening on the reins of his horse. "They're close. I can feel it."

The forest around them was thick, the canopy of trees blocking out much of the moonlight. The air was cold, and the scent of pine and damp earth filled Akin's lungs. He glanced over his shoulder at the men following them. Though they moved silently, he could see the tension in their faces. They knew the danger they were walking into, but they trusted Akin to lead them through it.

Suddenly, a sharp whistle cut through the air, and Akin pulled his horse to a halt. The men behind him did the same, their hands instinctively moving to the hilts of their swords.

"Did you hear that?" Akin asked, his voice low.

Garrick nodded, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the trees. "We're not alone."

For a moment, all was silent. Then, the sound came again, this time closer—a low, haunting whistle that sent a shiver down Akin's spine. It was a signal, one that could only mean one thing.

"Ambush!" Akin shouted, just as a volley of arrows rained down from the trees.

The men reacted instantly, raising their shields as the arrows thudded into the ground around them. Akin pulled his sword from its sheath, the metal gleaming in the dim torchlight. He could hear the rustling of leaves and the movement of men in the trees above them, but the attackers remained hidden, their faces obscured by the darkness.

"Form up!" Garrick bellowed, rallying the soldiers. "Shields up! Stay close!"

The soldiers quickly formed a tight circle, their shields raised to protect against the onslaught of arrows. Akin's heart raced as he scanned the treetops, searching for any sign of the attackers. But the forest was too thick, the shadows too deep.

"We need to move!" Akin shouted, his voice barely audible over the sound of arrows striking the shields. "We can't stay here!"

Garrick nodded, his spear at the ready. "Follow me!"

With a swift command, Garrick led the men deeper into the forest, moving quickly but cautiously through the trees. The arrows continued to rain down, but the dense canopy provided some cover, and the men pressed forward, their eyes sharp and their weapons ready.

Akin could feel his heart pounding in his chest as they moved. He knew that the rebels were nearby, waiting for the right moment to strike. But he also knew that they couldn't afford to slow down. If Lord Renold was still alive, time was running out.

They moved through the forest in silence, the only sound the rustling of leaves underfoot and the occasional snap of a twig. Akin's senses were on high alert, every shadow, every movement catching his attention. But the forest remained eerily still, as if the rebels were watching and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

After what felt like hours, they reached a clearing at the edge of the forest. Akin raised his hand, signaling for the men to stop. He peered through the trees, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the flickering light of a campfire in the distance.

"There," he whispered, pointing toward the light. "That's where they're holding him."

Garrick crouched beside him, his eyes scanning the camp. "Looks like a small group. Maybe twenty men."

Akin nodded. "We'll need to move quickly. We can't give them time to regroup."

He turned to the men, his voice low but commanding. "We'll split into two groups. Garrick, you take half the men and circle around to the east. I'll take the rest and approach from the west. We hit them fast and hard. No survivors."

The men nodded, their faces grim but determined. They knew the stakes. If they failed, Lord Renold would die, and the rebellion would gain the upper hand. But if they succeeded, they could turn the tide.

With a quick nod, Garrick led his men into the trees, disappearing into the shadows. Akin turned to the rest of his soldiers, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it. The moment of truth.

"Stay close," Akin whispered, drawing his sword. "And remember—no mercy."

The men followed him as he moved silently through the trees, their footsteps barely audible on the forest floor. The campfire grew closer, the figures of the rebels visible now as they sat around the fire, unaware of the danger approaching.

Akin's grip tightened on his sword as they closed in. He could see Lord Renold, bound and gagged, lying near the fire. His face was bruised, but he was alive. That was all that mattered.

Akin signaled to his men, and they fanned out, moving into position around the camp. The rebels were laughing, drinking, oblivious to the soldiers creeping through the trees. Akin felt a surge of adrenaline as he prepared to give the signal.

And then, all at once, the attack began.

Akin leaped from the shadows, his sword slashing through the air as he struck down the first rebel. The man barely had time to cry out before he fell, his blood staining the ground. The rest of Akin's men followed, charging into the camp with a fury that took the rebels by surprise.

Garrick's group hit from the opposite side, their weapons flashing in the firelight as they cut down the rebels where they stood. The element of surprise had worked in their favor, and within moments, the camp was in chaos.

Akin fought with precision and skill, his sword slicing through the air with deadly accuracy. He ducked under a wild swing from one of the rebels, driving his blade into the man's chest. The rebel gasped, his eyes wide with shock as he crumpled to the ground.

All around him, the sounds of battle filled the night. The clash of steel, the cries of men, the crackle of the fire—it was a brutal symphony of war, and Akin was at its center.

He moved through the camp like a shadow, cutting down any rebel who crossed his path. His men fought with equal ferocity, their blades flashing in the firelight as they overwhelmed the remaining rebels.

In the midst of the chaos, Akin caught sight of Lord Renold. The envoy was struggling to free himself, his eyes wide with fear as he watched the battle unfold. Without hesitation, Akin rushed to his side, cutting the ropes that bound him.

"Lord Renold!" Akin shouted, pulling the gag from the man's mouth. "Are you hurt?"

Renold shook his head, his voice hoarse. "I'm fine… but we need to go. There's more of them coming."

Akin's heart sank. Of course, the rebels wouldn't leave such an important prisoner unguarded.

"We need to move!" Akin shouted to his men, rallying them as the last of the rebels fell.

Just as the words left his mouth, a new sound echoed through the forest—the sound of war drums, beating in the distance.

"They're coming," Garrick said, his voice grim.

Akin's heart pounded in his chest as he turned to face the dark forest. The drums grew louder, closer, signaling the approach of reinforcements.

"Fall back!" Akin ordered. "We need to get out of here before they surround us!"

His men moved quickly, helping Lord Renold to his feet as they began their retreat into the forest. But the drums continued to beat, and Akin knew that the real battle was only just beginning.