Chapter 46 Reconquista (4)

Black's mind drifted as he rode through Corwen, his surroundings a blur. Then he saw her.

Lila.

She stood alone by the road, eyes downcast, shoulders hunched as if carrying the weight of the world. The moment he laid eyes on her, something inside him cracked open. A name, a life, a love that wasn't his clawed its way into his mind. Samuel's memories flooded in—a whispered laugh, the warmth of her hand in his, a promise left unfulfilled.

Black clenched his jaw as a sudden pain lanced through his skull. He gritted his teeth, gripping the reins. He wasn't Samuel. He was Black. And yet…

He spurred his horse forward. Urgency clawed at his ribs. "Lila!" he called out, his voice raw.

She turned, startled, her wide eyes searching his face. For a heartbeat, there was something—recognition, or the ghost of it.

"You're…?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Black almost reached for her, but his hand stopped midway. He forced himself to think. He wasn't Samuel. He couldn't be. He swallowed, forcing a smile. "Forgive my boldness… but you are Samuel's wife, are you not?"

Hope flared in her eyes. She grasped his hands, fingers trembling. "Where is he!? Don't tell me—"

Black exhaled slowly, steadying himself. The way she looked at him made something tighten in his chest. "He's alive," he said, softer this time. "Waiting for you. In Bala."

Her suspicion flickered, sharp and wary. "How did you know how to find me.... can i trust you?"

He hesitated.

"I swear it, you can trust me."

Her heart wavered between doubt and desperation. And desperation won. Her face softened. "...I'll come with you. Sir…?"

Black pushed his slicked-back hair from his face, forcing the ghost of a grin. "Black. Call me Black."

She tilted her head slightly. "Sir Black…" she echoed, rolling the name on her tongue. A small, hesitant smile. "What an odd name."

He smirked. "You'll get used to it."

For a fleeting moment, he let himself hold the warmth of her hand in his own. Then she pulled away. A sudden distance settled between them, quiet and uneasy.

Black took Lila's hand, his grip firm yet careful, as he helped her onto the horse. Her fingers trembled in his for a moment before she settled behind him. As he swung himself into the saddle, he felt her hesitation—then the slow, inevitable embrace as she wrapped her arms around his waist, holding tight. Neither spoke.

As he rode toward the town center, the whispers grew. Men glanced at Lila, their eyes lingering on her long brown hair, the striking blue of her eyes.

"Quite the prize our Commander Black found himself," one muttered with a smirk.

Black ignored them. His mind was elsewhere—on the weight of the woman behind him, the strange, twisting feeling in his chest, and the faces of the townspeople ahead.

The crowd gathered in the square, thin and ragged, their clothes hanging loose over starved frames. Their homes lay in ruin, their fields barren.

Black reined in his horse and let silence settle. Then he spoke.

"Look around you." His voice cut through the hush like a blade. "Your lord is dead. Lands barren. And when winter comes, what will you do? Beg? Die?"

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Fear, doubt.

"But you don't have to die here." His tone softened, but the edge remained. "Lord Ieuan offers you something your masters never did—land to work, food to eat, steel to defend it. In Bala, you won't scrape by under the heel of dead men's laws. You will live, not just survive. You will build something worth fighting for."

The silence stretched. A father clutched his son's hand, knuckles white. A woman glanced at the ruin of her home, jaw clenched.

"Stay here, and famine or war will find you." Black's gaze swept over them, daring them to deny it. "Come with us, and you will have a home."

The first step came slowly—one man, then another. Then a mother hoisted her child onto her hip, eyes hard with quiet resolve.

And just like that, the dam broke.

People turned toward their homes, grabbing what little they had. The tide had shifted, pulled by the promise of something greater.

Bala

At the town's entrance, Pwyll and Gold were already standing, watching the growing number of people streaming in. Black's eyes flicked between them, registering the tension in the air.

Pwyll's face twisted in frustration as he grunted. "More mouths to feed," he muttered under his breath, clearly displeased with the influx of refugees. He crossed his arms, the furrows in his brow deepening.

Gold, adjusted his cloak before speaking, his voice smooth as ever. "Oh yes, also more coins to spend ," he said, the concern creeping into his tone.

Black dismounted swiftly and helped Lila down, his attention snapped back to Gold, who had already taken Lila's hand, kissing it with a practiced flourish. "And who is this lovely lady?" Gold asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

Lila blushed, clearly caught off guard by his attention. She glanced at Black, who shook off Gold's hand and replied curtly, "She's my guest."

Gold cleared his throat, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes as he shifted the conversation. "I assume you've taken Cadogan's head and annexed Corwen? So why do I not smell any silver?"

Black scowled. "The old fool was poor," he said simply, not bothering to elaborate.

But before the conversation could continue, a rider came galloping toward the gates, causing a stir. Black immediately turned and made his way to the commotion. "Unhand him," he ordered, voice steady but firm. A guard tried to restrain the rider, but Black intervened. "Explain yourself."

The rider, panting and desperate, spoke quickly. "Harlech is under siege! The English are here—they've attacked already!" His voice shook as he handed over a letter. Black took it and read the contents, his stomach sinking. The English attacking so soon meant the cannister cannons wouldn't be finished in time. They needed reinforcements. Fast.

His heart pounded as the weight of the situation settled on him. He handed the letter to Gold, who also read it, his expression darkening as he processed the news.

The rider bowed his head respectfully, looking at Black with urgency. "I must see Lord Ieuan and pay my respects," he said. "Then, I'll ride further east to seek further aid from our loyal supporters."

Black exchanged a look with Gold—neither of them knew where Ethan was at that moment, and the mention of Llangollen only raised more questions. With a thin smile, Black placed his hand on the rider's shoulder. "You will do no such thing,"

Black turned to Tarwyn, who was pacing in agitation. Tarwyn's voice rang out, filled with disbelief. "They have 3,000 men, and we have barely a hundred! We can not!"

Black's eyes narrowed, his jaw set with resolve. "As my decision is final," he said, his voice calm but unwavering. "We will march to Harlech."

Tarwyn cursed under his breath, but Black could see the determination in his eyes. The men would march again, no matter how dire the odds.

Callwen, sighed and spoke softly. "And so the rebellion continues," he muttered.

At the manor, Black sat beside Lila, his voice low as the silence lingered in the air, thick with unspoken words. "Lila, listen… I need to tell you something."

Her gaze was fixed on her hands, hands clenched so tight her knuckles were pale. She refused to meet his eyes. She already knew what was coming. "I knew it," she whispered, her voice fragile. "He's dead, isn't he?"

Black's chest tightened at the words, but he couldn't lie. He couldn't. Instead, he reached out, his hand hesitating near hers, before he said, "No. He's... within me."

Lila's eyes snapped up, disbelief flashing through them like a storm. "What do you mean?" Her voice was raw, desperate.

Black's heart twisted. The memories were flooding back—Samuel's memories, the things only Samuel and Lila shared. The laughter, the quiet moments they had spent together. Black felt them pulse inside his head as if they were his own. And in that moment, he knew he had to speak them. It was the only way to make her believe him.

"Lila," Black's voice broke. "I know about the morning we spent by the river. You wore that red dress, and you laughed as i tried to teach you how to skip stones. I said you had the most beautiful laugh I've ever heard. I even tried to skip one and it sank like a stone, and you teased me about it." Black's voice faltered, but he continued. "I know about the letter i wrote you, the one kept hidden under your pillow....."

Lila's face went pale, her lips parting as if she were seeing a ghost. "H-how could you...!?"

"I am him, Lila," Black whispered, his voice trembling as he gripped her hands in his, his gaze intense. "I'm not Samuel, but I have his memories. The ones you shared with him. The love you shared with him. The part of him that will always be with you is here... inside me."

Lila's breath hitched as she pulled away slightly, her face clouded with shock and confusion. "No.. you are him. Your face....He's gone!"

Black's voice dropped to a whisper. "I know. I know...but please."

Tears welled in Lila's eyes. She couldn't fight it anymore, the fragile hope that had begun to rise inside her heart. "It can't be...." she whispered, her hands trembling in his.

"Yes and i remember everything," Black said, his voice pained but steady. "You know it, Lila. You and me—what you shared—it's in here. It's in me. I might look different, sound different, but I will carry that with me for as long as I can."

Lila was shaking now, not from fear, but from the overwhelming flood of emotions she couldn't contain. She reached out, fingers trembling, and cupped his face as if searching for something real beneath his eyes. "Is it really you, Samuel?" Her voice cracked as she said it.

Black closed his eyes, his heart aching. He wanted to give her the comfort she craved, to be the man she loved.

Lila's breath hitched as she searched his face, and in that moment, she seemed to find something familiar. Not the face, but the memories—the warmth, the tenderness that had once been Samuel's.

Lila trembled as she leaned her forehead against his, the weight of what he was saying sinking in. There was pain, yes—but there was also something else. A strange comfort. A glimmer of hope.

And as they sat there, in the quiet of the room, Lila closed her eyes and for the first time in a long while, allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, Samuel had never truly left her.