The Silent Tide
Maximillian stirred from his slumber, his body stiff from the previous day's march and the weight of their mission. Blinking against the morning light, he stretched out his limbs and rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of weariness.
Adam, already awake and seated on his bedroll, looked over with a wry smile. "Morning, Max. Ready for another day in Elara's service?"
Maximillian grunted in response, his mind still foggy with sleep. "As ready as we can be, I suppose." He sat up slowly, running a hand through his tousled hair.
Outside the tent, the camp was abuzz with activity. The sounds of soldiers preparing for the day's march filled the air—shouts of orders, the clatter of armor being donned, and the rhythmic beat of drums that signaled the warband's imminent departure.
With a sigh, Maximillian pushed himself to his feet, his joints protesting slightly. "Let's get moving, Adam. No point in lingering here."
Adam nodded in agreement, already gathering his belongings. "Right behind you, mate."
As Maximillian and Adam emerged from their tent, soldiers from the neighboring tent called out to them.
"Adam and Max, you don't need to pull down your tent, just pack your essentials. We're moving toward the capital today," one of the soldiers informed them.
"Ah, thank you," Maximillian replied gratefully.
Adam exchanged a glance with the other soldier, nodding in acknowledgment. They both stepped back into their tent, quickly gathering their other belongings. Adam stuffed some provisions into his bag, while Maximillian carefully packed away his cherished bottle of ale.
After both of them had packed their important belongings for the journey to the capital, Maximillian and Adam began to don their armor. Maximillian, who had received a new piece of armor from Elara after saving her life, was quite excited about putting it on. Elara had provided him with a brand new Banded Mail harness. As he finished putting it on, he glanced over at Adam, who was adjusting his patched-up Leather harness.
Maximillian couldn't resist teasing Adam. "Hey, look at me," he said, striking a playful pose. "Aren't I beautiful?"
Adam chuckled and replied with a smile, "The most beautiful bastard I know."
Maximillian feigned offense, his tone laced with playful indignation. "HEY, I'm not only beautiful but also gorgeous, okay?"
After finishing donning their armor, they emerged from their tent and headed towards the central stage where Elara executed Ser Zangenberg. The camp was bustling with activity as soldiers gathered, preparing for the march towards the capital. Maximillian and Adam found their places among their comrades, their armor gleaming in the morning sunlight.
After finishing donning their armor, they emerged from their tent and headed towards the central stage where Elara typically issued her commands. The camp was bustling with activity as soldiers gathered, preparing for the march towards the capital. Maximillian and Adam found their places among their comrades, their armor gleaming in the morning sunlight.
Elara stood at the forefront, her presence commanding attention. As the soldiers quieted down, she addressed them with a resolute tone. "Today, we make our way to the capital," she announced, her voice carrying over the assembled warriors. "Our objective is clear: to ensure that justice prevails and that those who seek to disrupt the realm's peace are brought to account."
She looked ahead with a tinge of sadness in her voice, "The reason this task falls upon us, upon me and my dear warriors, is that the king lies on his deathbed. It's uncertain how long he will cling to his fragile life." The sadness evaporated from her tone as she commanded, "EVERY WARRIOR, EVERY SOLDIER, EVERY MAN IN THIS WARBAND WHO IS WILLING TO GIVE HIS LIFE FOR THIS KINGDOM, STEP FORWARD!"
Almost in unison, every one of her soldiers took a step ahead. Elara continued, "Are you not afraid that we may all perish in the struggle between the first and second prince while protecting the lives of the common folk?"
A soldier two rows in front of Adam to the left spoke up, "The combat princess is our commander; she holds more value for me than my own mother!"
The group erupted into laughter and enthusiastic agreement with the soldier's sentiment. Elara's worried expression transformed into one of relief and satisfaction at their unwavering loyalty and determination.
With this, Elara lightly bowed before her soldiers, and all of them returned the salute. As Elara moved to the back of the stage, Leldur, Sullvian, and Kiran stepped forward, with Leldur in the middle, Sullvian to his right, and Kiran to his left.
Leldur addressed them, "Comrades, we don't yet know the full situation in the capital, but our intelligence suggests it's still manageable. However, the situation inside the palace is quite bizarre, according to our spies who arrived this morning. We need to inform you about what we're facing."
Leldur took a step back, and Sullvian stepped forward. "All knights and guards within the palace have already taken sides, except for the king's guard, who is currently protecting the Third Prince per His Majesty's last order. Therefore, you must always carry your sword and move in pairs at all times. If you need to relieve yourself, take your buddy and your sword. If you visit the whorehouse, you better bring both your swords," Sullvian said, eliciting chuckles from the crowd and resounding replies of "Aye, Sir."
Finally, Kiran stepped forward. "We have enough supplies, but not everyone will enter the capital. Some of you will remain stationed outside to ensure we have a retreat point if needed. Supplies will be smuggled into the city at night from our camp, as we cannot rely on the first and second princes to permit us to bring supplies openly into the city nor give us some."
Having said all of this, Kiran stepped back, and Leldur retrieved a worn piece of parchment from his cloak. Unfolding it with care, Leldur cleared his throat and began to read aloud from the list of names—a document weathered by time, its edges creased and adorned with the faint smudges of past journeys.
"These are the men commanded to follow Elara into the city," Leldur announced, his voice carrying across the attentive crowd. As he scanned the list, his finger traced the names written in ink, each stroke revealing the dedication and preparation that had gone into assembling this group.
Among the names listed were Maximillian and Adam, along with their new but trusted squad, Ronan and the others who had proven their mettle time and again.
As Leldur's voice echoed through the assembly, each soldier stood with unwavering resolve, their faces illuminated by the delightful sunlight.
The camp fell into a reverent silence, the air heavy with the realization that this mission would determine the fate of their kingdom. Elara stepped forward once more, her gaze sweeping over her chosen warriors with pride and determination.
"These are the men who will stand by my side as we navigate the labyrinth within our own walls," Elara proclaimed, her voice ringing with conviction. "Prepare yourselves; we will begin our march in five minutes. Gather outside of the camp. Cavalry and soldiers Adam and Maximillian, please secure yourselves some horses."
The urgency in Elara's voice spurred the soldiers into action. Adam and Maximillian exchanged a quick nod before swiftly moving to the cavalry's section of the camp. Amidst the bustle of soldiers preparing for departure, they found themselves drawn to two sturdy horses, patiently waiting with their saddles cinched and gleaming in the light.
Maximillian's gaze fell upon a chestnut mare named Ember, her coat rich with shades of deep mahogany. He approached her, running a hand along her strong neck, feeling the warmth of her breath as she nickered softly in recognition. The familiar weight of his armor felt lighter in her presence.
Meanwhile, Adam's attention was drawn to a dappled gray gelding named Storm. His coat was a tapestry of silver and charcoal hues, reminiscent of gathering storm clouds. Adam adjusted the reins, checking the fit of the saddle with practiced hands. Storm shifted beneath him, a subtle acknowledgment of their partnership for the day's ride.
With their chosen steeds ready, Adam and Maximillian secured the reins and joined the growing assembly of soldiers. After a few minutes, Elara and Sullvian emerged, their presence signaling the commencement of their journey.
The cavalry led the procession, their mounts stepping purposefully ahead with Elara and Sullvian close behind. Maximillian and Adam followed suit, guiding their horses in synchronized strides. The rest of the soldiers, a formidable line of determined faces, fell into formation behind them.
The Capital loomed ahead in the distance, a constant presence on the horizon throughout their march. Though visible from the camp, the journey remained a substantial two-hour trek.