Hideaway

Jacques and his soldiers traveled at a quick and steady pace staying as much as possible in the cover of trees and brush. After about three kilometers he came to a small clearing at the base of a hill by a small river.

In the clearing stood a four-story wooden watch tower inside a small wooden outpost. The Vauban-style octagonal fort had eight three-meter-tall straight wall sections, one gate, for battlements, and one four-story tower.

The forts were quickly constructed along the river when Jacques was Crown Prince. The river made a semi-circle around the capital and Jacques planned the forts as the first line of defense against an enemy attack. The forts could be easily built and vacated without much effort.

"Hurry and open it. It's the Crown Prince," the captain shouted angrily.

"Please stop calling me Crown Prince. I always hated that title and no longer have that title," Jacques said exhausted.

"You're still the Crown Prince Jacques to us, sire," the captain said.

"Thank you, but that's not necessary," Jacques replied.

"Your royal highness, who is the prisoner?" Jacques old butler Mathéo de Nard asked.

"This is a demon! It looks like our empire was selected for the battleground. Captain light the signal in the watchtower. Quickly pack up everything. We move out in 30 minutes. Make sure you eat. We march for Mistwood Keep," Jacques ordered.

"Yes, your royal highness," the soldiers shouted in unison.

The night was fast approaching by the time, the soldiers left the outpost. They could see the other outpost also lit their signals. Which meant everyone would be falling back to Mistwood Keep for the evitable battle.

They camped outside over a stone fire ring in the center. Mathéo had grown accustomed to campfire cooking since his liege was exiled. In addition to serving his master, he also was also responsible for feeding the small contingent of soldiers.

The 12 men sat on three large logs close to the fire. The restrained demon sat on the floor. The men spoke in softly and did their best to cover their fire to it wasn't easily spotted in the distance.

"Mathéo your cooking comforts me. The thing I miss most about the palace was the food," Jacques laughed.

"Bless the gods you found a stag to tide us over on our journey. I think the meat shall last us at least a three-fourths of the way there," said Mathéo thankfully.

Mathéo was an old man. But he refused to give up his duty when Crown Prince was exiled. Even though he was old he did his best to keep up with his charge and never complained.

The captured soldier was still obviously hurting from the beating he received at the hands of the demons, and he collapsed onto the ground in front of the log. He leaned back and used the log for support, pain evident on his face.

Jacques came over and squatted in front of the captain. He placed his hand on his shoulder and said, "I'll keep the first watch. Stay here!"

The captain looked at Jacques wearyingly. When Jacques told the general, that he wanted to be assigned to a watched tower like his troops the general refused at once. When the prince demanded, the general acquiesced to the prince and a bargain was struck. The captain was assigned as the prince's bodyguard.

Over the three-month period, the captain has done his best to watch over the prince, and during that time developed a great friendship. The prince was all the things nobles were not. He was humble, helpful, and hard-working. He didn't ask for favors and did the dirtiest of jobs without complaining. He was a model soldier and leader who led by example.

"Alright, your highness you can keep the first watch and I'll take the second. If I think we should stick to the tree line and circle around," the captain suggested.

Jacques gave a hand gesture and left to keep watch. He hurried into the brush and was gone in seconds. Jacques moved cautiously, stopping, listening, and looking often to determine if the demons were nearby. He checked to cover his footprints as the general had instructed, he was careful not to leave a trail.

The night passed without an incident. The next morning, they unhitched the cart from Olive and traveled on foot to travel faster. By the next evening, the troop had reached their second stopping point a cave on the side of a hill. The cave was about halfway up the ridge, so it was above the flood line.

The entrance was obscured, and it would take someone knowing where to look to see it. The cave had been the army's hideaway for centuries. The army seized the cave from an infamous pirate crew after they left the empire for riskier waters. The cave once belonged to a famous straw hat pirate who used the cave as a hideout from time to time.

The cave was fifty feet deep, making it cool in the summer and warm in the winter. The cave served as both a safe house and storage facility against intruders.

Inside the cave, the army stored travel provisions: hooded cloaks to keep warm, beeswax to make their boots watertight, water skins to drink, and jerky to eat.

After they arrived, it couldn't have been more than thirty minutes later the sound of hounds barking and men talking could be heard outside the cave.

"Shh," the captain whispered looking through the vines that covered the cave's entrance and pointed in the direction of the demons outside.

Jacques could just barely make them out behind the vines. Thankfully, the hellhounds had lost their scent through the marsh and the cave was downwind from the beasts.

The demons carefully examined their surroundings, but it was clear to Jacques they had lost their trail. But now there was a different problem, the demons had them pinned in the cave unable to leave and the stored rations wouldn't last forever.

Jacques counted twelve armed and armored demons. Interestingly, eleven wore the same plain black tabard as the three they killed earlier. One wore red tabards with a black and white crescent moon with a skull facing leftward emblazoned on it.

The recovering soldier called them the Crimson Guards. It appeared that the death of the three demons they killed was part of a much larger raid parting. The demons seemed to be having a heated discussion.

The demon leader in a red tabard was pacing and talking to the other ones in black tabards. The one talking seemed to be the leader. He had a scar on his left cheek that ran from his temple to the corner of his mouth.

Jacques could just hear what he was shouting, "How the hell did those humans evade you? Their trail was so easy to follow. And now our so-called trackers have turned up nothing. A worthless piece of dung that you all are!

Not do they now know we are here; they have one of our soldiers hostage! The entire human army knows we're here. This was supposed to be a cover mission. Now the whole damn world shall know we are here!"

One of the demons in the black tabard said subserviently in a rough voice, "Commander, Mistwood Fortress is near here. They lit the signal; I believe the army shall fall back to the fortress. We can ambush them on their way there, but I fear we shall run into more troops heading there. We should rejoin our main force to attack Mistwood Fortress. Those pesky humans would surely die what is the point of us risking our lives for a fool that got captured?"

Several heads nodded at this idea.

The demon leader scratched his horn and said, in a deep unearthly baritone, "fine, let's go! There's no need for us to risk our lives for a fool?"

The demons and their hellhounds turned around and headed back the way they came.

…

Emperor Pier Galveston Landon de Caernarvon of the Rhaziesian Empire sat upon the emerald throne drumming his fingers.

His mood had soured further ever since his eldest son was exiled. The thought of sending his son to his death worsened his anxiety.

His mind wandered, and he absently stroked his full close-cropped beard. The throne room was located at the top of the highest tower in Caernarvon Castle, the heart of the Rhaziesian Empire.

The room's thick stone walls had a greenish cast to them. They enhanced the beauty of the emerald throne. The room was lit by burning torches set in sconces attached to the walls encircling the room.

Bear rugs were spread across the expansive marble floor, and tapestries hung on the walls depicting scenes of glorious victories of his forefathers. Their triumph eyes bore into his soul, reminding him of his worthlessness.

The throne itself was made of iron and had so many emeralds embedded in it that at first glimpse it appeared to be made of emeralds. The emeralds caught the firelight and showed the reflected flames from many angles.

The king looked at his chamberlain and asked, "What is the next pressing issue that you need your lord to rule upon?"

The chamberlain shifted his weight from foot to foot and wrung his hands in front of his chest. He cleared his throat and replied, "A matter of war, my lord."

Emperor de Caernarvon stopped his constant drumming and leaned forward in terror.

Chamberlain de Monk nervously read the report, his mouth dry with nervousness, "The army reports demons have been spotted in the wetland. Prince Jacques' troops were the first to report…and he has yet to report in. The general suspects his troops ran into trouble."

Hearing the news, Emperor de Caernarvon body's seized up in a panic and he fainted.