Secrets Behind Walls

And so, they both stood motionless on the hill, the uncertainty between them palpable. Elara found herself questioning the cryptic man before her. Was he falling for her, a mere pawn in her plans, or a spy for the crown? His ambitions and motives remained shrouded in mystery, elusive to her discerning eyes. With a composed yet authoritative tone, Elara ordered Adam to return to his tent, her gaze lingering on him as he made his way back.

Adam glanced over his shoulder at the hill, observing Elara holding her sword, a silent guardian overseeing her camp. He sensed her genuine concern for the well-being of her soldiers, grateful for the unexpected encounter that had brought them together. As he continued his journey back to his tent, he couldn't help but cough loudly, deliberately to annouce himself to Maximillian. From inside, he heard Maximillian's sore shout, "FINALLY, YOU IMBECILE! GIVE ME 10 MINUTES!"

Respecting his tentmate's request, Adam settled in front of his tent, the weight of the day pressing upon his weary head as it sank into his arms. Within moments, a blissful tranquility enveloped him, and he succumbed to the embrace of sleep. However, the respite proved short-lived. Just ten minutes later, he stirred, realizing he was being carried inside his tent. Confusion etched across his face, he queried Maximillian, "What's going on? Why are you carrying me?"

Maximillian, with a touch of apologetic concern, explained that he didn't want to disturb Adam's well-deserved rest after such a demanding day. He expressed regret for the wait but reassured Adam that it was necessary. Adam offered a reassuring pat on Maximillian's shoulder, assuring him that it was all right. As he settled into his bed, fatigue quickly overcame him, whisking him away to the realm of dreams, where reality morphed into ethereal hues and captivating spectacles unique to his slumbering mind.

And so, the morning greeted both men, a sudden ambush upon their slumber. Maximillian, true to form, began his day with a chorus of complaints, his muscles aching from the previous day's exertion of moving the camp two times. Amidst the symphony of groans, both men shared a heartfelt laugh, finding solace in their shared camaraderie.

Dressed and ready to face the day, they bid each other farewell until evening, each with their own tasks to attend to. Maximillian sought to train, honing his skills, while Adam had an appointment with Ser Ostfried Zangenberg, a meeting of potential significance. As Adam left the tent, making his way toward Elara's, he found her stepping out, their greetings exchanged with a sense of urgency.

Knowing time was of the essence, Elara and Adam set off immediately for Ser Ostfried Zangenberg's tent. As they approached his camp and his tent, both sensed a obvious shift in the atmosphere within Zangenberg's camp. Uncertainty lingered in the air, prompting Adam to ponder the implications silently.

The weight of anticipation rested upon their shoulders as they ventured forth, prepared to face whatever revelations awaited them within the confines of Ser Ostfried's tent.

And so, both Elara and Adam entered Ser Ostfried's tent, immediately sensing his annoyance. Elara took the initiative and spoke first, offering an apology for the camp relocation due to the recent fire. She explained that the move was necessary to prevent such an incident from recurring, choosing a clear meadow as the new location. Ser Ostfried, attempting to convey concern, faltered in his delivery, responding with a half-hearted acknowledgment. "It was a wise decision, and I am grateful that no harm befell you or your camp," he replied. "But why else have you come today? Our meeting was held yesterday, and no negotiator has approached us to discuss the siege."

Adam interjected, asserting his presence in the conversation. "We require additional men for the construction of a palisade," he stated. "We seek your assistance in providing 20 to 50 men who can help fortify our siege site. This will not only enhance our dominance but also serve as a secure space for merchants, protecting them from nocturnal threats. And since we don't know if there will be other nobles trying to interfere in this siege, it could serve as a deterrence."

Ser Ostfried's initial response was dismissive, reminding Adam of his lowly status and questioning his right to speak. However, Elara swiftly intervened, asserting Adam's role as her temporary strategic advisor and expressing her support for his ideas. Beaten, Ser Ostfried relented, granting their request and allowing them to take 16 men with them.

As they journeyed back to their home camp, Elara couldn't contain her curiosity and asked Adam why he had specifically requested 20 to 50 men from Ser Ostfried. Adam explained his reasoning, highlighting the importance of appearing less suspicious by seeking a small group of Ostfried's soldiers. Elara expressed satisfaction with how Adam handled the situation, noting that he complied with her request for assistance, as discussed in their conversation the previous night. She further inquired, "Did you notice his grin that he couldn't hide when we asked for the men?" Adam responded sharply, "Yes, my Commander. I'm certain he is unaware that we know about his betrayal. It was indeed a wise decision to seek assistance."

Upon their return to the camp, Elara graciously granted Adam a much-needed day of rest. She understood the importance of allowing her soldiers time to recharge their energy and gather their thoughts. With a warm smile, she said, "You have worked tirelessly for the last two days, Adam. Take the day off. I will personally oversee the selection of the men and the gathering of resources needed to construct the palisade. In a few days' time, we will be well-prepared, even if the Lord's troops attempt to catch us off guard. And make sure the wounds on your hand heal well. You'll need to be able to swing a sword."

Adam felt a surge of gratitude for Elara's consideration and leadership. He knew that her meticulous attention to detail and strategic thinking would ensure their camp's safety. "Thank you, Commander," he replied, his voice filled with appreciation. "I will make the most of this day to rest and prepare myself for the battle that lies ahead of us."

Adam strode purposefully towards the training grounds, his mind at ease knowing that Elara wouldn't be seeking him out again that day. As he entered the makeshift arena, hastily assembled with dusty and sandy terrain, even though it had only been hours since they settled here, the grass was already dying. The training dummies were in place, yet numerous supplies still awaited proper arrangement. His eyes fell upon Maximillian engaging in a fierce spar. Armed with a sword and shield, Maximillian fearlessly faced off against a larger and more imposing adversary. His enemy was at least one and a half heads taller than him and decided to wield a two-handed sword that seemed small in the adversary's hands.

Intrigued by the show before him, Adam leaned against a stack of barrels, positioning himself for a better view of the ongoing match. The air crackled with anticipation as the combatants circled each other, their movements calculated and precise. The larger opponent, brimming with raw power, swung his sword with thunderous force, seeking to overpower Maximillian with sheer strength.

However, Maximillian, displaying his agility and finesse, deftly parried each blow, his shield deflecting the strikes with unwavering determination even though you could hear the wood crack and see splinters fly. He countered with swift, calculated actions, aiming for his opponent's openings. The clash of wood filled the training grounds, punctuated by the grunts and exertion of the combatants.

The fighting scene intensified as Maximillian executed a daring move, evading a sweeping strike and retaliating with a lightning-quick thrust of his sword. The blade found its mark, grazing his opponent's arm, drawing a thin line of crimson. The crowd, consisting of fellow soldiers and curious onlookers, erupted in applause and cheers, impressed by Maximillian's skill and tenacity.

Undeterred by the minor wound, the larger adversary redoubled his efforts, launching a relentless onslaught of strikes onto Maximillian. However, something within Adam stirred, sensing injustice. The man had lost the spar, he got hit fair and square, yet he dared to escalate the encounter into an actual fight. The knightly principles that Adam held once very dear were offended by this breach of honor.

In a surge of instinct and righteous indignation, Adam's body moved before his thoughts could catch up. He swiftly snatched a nearby wooden sword and leaped into the fray, his every motion a testament to his agility and determination. With a lightning-fast maneuver, he intercepted a strike aimed at Maximillian's unprotected back, narrowly averting a disastrous blow. That could have easily sent Maximillian to the field hospital or even paralyzed him.

As Maximillian turned towards the commotion, a mix of shock and surprise painted across his face, Adam's voice rang out, filled with both concern and frustration. "Never turn your back to the enemy, you idiot!" His words, laced with urgency, conveyed the gravity of the situation. Maximillian stumbled backward, taken aback by the sudden turn of events, landing heavily on the unforgiving ground as he looked up at Adam, who still held the stance with his enemy.

Adam and the larger adversary locked eyes, their swords poised in a standstill. Adam spoke with a measured tone, his voice commanding attention. "The spar is over. Calm down," he urged, trying to diffuse the escalating tension. "If you continue, the Commander will hear of this."

In that instant, the tall and formidable man made a decision, dropping his weapon and turning his back to Adam. He swiftly departed from the training grounds, his hasty retreat visible to all who witnessed the spectacle.While leaving the training grounds, he shouted, "You small fox, Maximillian, you will see what happens to you. I will not lose to a midget like you."

The training grounds fell silent, the echoes of clashing wood replaced by an air of doubt. Adam, his heart still pounding with adrenaline, dropped his borrowed sword to the ground and approached Maximillian, extending a helping hand to his fallen friend. Concern etched his features as he assisted Maximillian in regaining his footing.

Maximillian, shaken but grateful for Adam's intervention, managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Adam," he muttered, his voice tinged with both embarrassment and gratitude. "I guess I let my guard down."

Adam clasped Maximillian's shoulder, offering reassurance. "We all have our moments. Just remember, vigilance is key, especially in times like these. And once again, never turn your back to an enemy, especially if he is still breathing." His gaze shifted towards the dispersing crowd, a mix of awe and concern etched upon their faces.

Together, Adam and Maximillian made their way off the training grounds, the weight of the spar still hanging in the air. As they retreated to a quieter corner of the camp, Adam couldn't help but reflect on the events that had unfolded. The encounter served as a stark reminder of the challenges they faced, even within their own ranks.

Alone with Maximillian, Adam turned his attention towards him, a determined look in his eyes. "Where can I find a weaponsmith?" he inquired, initiating the conversation. Maximillian hesitated for a moment, a touch of concern evident in his voice. "Well, there is one weaponsmith I know of, but I must warn you, he can be quite stubborn," he replied cautiously.

A flicker of intrigue crossed Adam's face as he listened to Maximillian's warning. With a hint of amusement, he responded, "Stubborn, you say? That sounds interesting. Take me to him, please." A chuckle escaped his lips, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation.

Maximillian yielded to Adam's request, albeit with a tinge of uncertainty. "Alright, if you think it's worth a shot," he conceded, acknowledging the adventurous spirit that burned within Adam.

Together, Adam and Maximillian set off on their to find the puzzling and obstinate weaponsmith. They navigated through the bustling camp, their steps guided by Maximillian's familiarity with the layout its seems as if he had taken a stroll around it in the morning. As they ventured deeper into the heart of the camp, the rhythmic sounds of hammering and clanging grew louder, signaling their proximity to their destination.

And so, their search led them to their destination, or so they thought. However, instead of a grand workshop, they found themselves standing in front of a humble tent. An aging anvil stood as the lone sentinel, surrounded by stacks of crates and barrels. Adam cast a questioning gaze towards Maximillian, his eyes silently conveying a mixture of disbelief and confusion. Maximillian, on the other hand, responded with a nonchalant shrug, an expression that seemed to say, "Well, this is it. Nothing more, nothing less."

From inside the tent, Adam and Maximillian could hear cursing and other words. The man inside seemed to notice that some onlookers were standing outside and shouted, "Go the heck away. I don't sell to prostitutes."

The man's unfriendly tone and derogatory comments fueled only Adam's anger from earlier. In a moment of sass and frustration, he retorted, "How about I take those sticks you're selling and shove them right up your ass?" Maximillian, shocked by Adam's choice of words, stared at him in disbelief. Adam, unfazed by Maximillian's reaction, maintained his gaze and focused his attention on the store.

Suddenly, a man emerged from the back of the tent, his white beard and hair drenched in sweat. He towered above Maximilian with his imposing stature but was just a bit taller than Adam.