Those easy to fool

The chief's hall was suffocating, not because of the heat, but because of the overwhelming stench of cowardice that hung in the air. I stood before the chief and his advisors, my expression calm and my words deliberate as I explained the urgency of our situation.

"We cannot wait," I said, my voice cutting through the heavy silence. "The bandits are planning to raid the village in the next two days at dusk. If we strike their base tonight, we'll catch them unprepared and shatter their forces before they can retaliate."

I paused, allowing the weight of my proposal to settle over them. "All I need are your knights and resources to ensure success. Give me that, and I'll solve this problem for you."

The chief, a portly man with tired eyes, leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the table. His advisors exchanged uneasy glances. Finally, the chief sighed and spoke, his tone dripping with reluctance.

"You ask much of us, stranger," he said, his words slow and measured. "Our knights are few, our supplies stretched thin. And now, you want us to gamble what little we have on the word of an outsider."

I clenched my fists at my sides, my nails biting into my palms. "I've given you proof of their numbers, their location, their intent—"

"And yet," the chief interrupted, raising a hand, "it is still a gamble. What guarantee do we have that you won't lead us into ruin? No. We will not risk it."

I stared at him, my mind racing to suppress the fury building within me. Cowards. All of them. Content to sit and wait, hoping their problems would simply disappear.

"Understood," I said finally, my voice steady despite the fire in my chest. "I won't waste any more of your time."

As I turned to leave, my gaze swept over the room, lingering for a moment on the head knight. He sat at the edge of the table, a smirk tugging at his lips as if he found my failure amusing.

That grin told me everything I needed to know.

I stormed out of the hall, my footsteps echoing against the cobblestones as I made my way toward the market. Villagers parted as I passed, their gazes a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. I played my role well, letting them see the frustration in my stride, the tight set of my jaw.

Near the market square, I spotted Myra and Lira standing by a tavern, their hoods pulled low to conceal their faces. They straightened as I approached, and with a subtle nod, I signaled that everything was going according to plan.

"Faco," I called, my voice low.

The boy appeared from where he'd been lingering nearby, his bright eyes full of energy despite the long day. "Yes, Lord Kendrin?"

"Follow the head knight," I instructed, gesturing back toward the hall. "He'll be heading toward the back gates soon. Stay out of sight, but don't lose him."

Faco hesitated for only a moment before nodding, his youthful eagerness outweighing his fear. "I'll be careful," he promised before slipping into the crowd, his small frame disappearing in an instant.

I turned back to Myra and Lira. "Let's go inside," I said, tilting my head toward the tavern.

The tavern was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of stale ale and desperation. Myra and Lira lowered their hoods as we entered, their presence drawing curious glances from the scattered patrons. At the center of the room, a makeshift podium stood—a repurposed table raised slightly above the floor.

The murmurs began as soon as I stepped forward. Faces turned toward me, their expressions weary and disoriented. These were the people Myra had gathered, the ones she'd spoken to in her rounds—shopkeepers, laborers, farmers. They were the backbone of Haverstead, the ones who suffered most from the bandits' raids.

I climbed onto the podium, letting the silence settle as I surveyed the room. The weight of their gazes pressed against me, a reminder of the stakes.

"When I look at you," I began, my voice steady, "I see more than just a village under siege. I see families. I see workers. I see survivors."

Their expressions shifted, some leaning forward while others exchanged glances. I had their attention now, the spark of hope flickering in their eyes.

"I understand your fear," I continued, letting my voice soften just slightly. "Your homes, your livelihoods, your loved ones—all are under threat. The bandits have stolen from you, terrorized you, and left you powerless."

I paused, scanning the room, my gaze locking with a few individuals who looked especially downtrodden. "But what if I told you that you're not powerless? That together, we can turn the tide?"

The murmurs swelled, uncertainty mingling with curiosity.

"I've seen what happens when we let fear dictate our actions," I said, my tone hardening. "It leads to ruin. To betrayal. To the destruction of everything we hold dear. But I am not here to watch that happen. I am here to change it."

I stepped down from the podium, walking slowly among them, letting my presence fill the room. "You don't know me. And you don't need to trust me right now. But I will give you something greater than trust. I will give you results. Tonight, we strike back. Tonight, we send a message to those who think they can take what's ours without consequence."

A ripple of energy passed through the crowd, the desperation in their faces slowly giving way to determination.

"I can't promise this will be easy," I admitted, stopping to look directly at an older man who clutched a battered hat in his hands. "But I can promise that if we stand together, if we fight together, we will win. The bandits may be strong, but they're not invincible. And neither are we."

Myra stepped forward then, her voice ringing out clear and confident. "We're not asking you to take up arms. Not yet. All we need is your support—your willingness to fight back in spirit. Help your neighbors, stay vigilant, and trust that we will see this through."

The crowd began to nod, their resolve solidifying. Myra's words were the perfect complement to mine, grounding my rhetoric in practicality.

"We will not fail you," I finished, meeting their eyes one last time. "By this time tomorrow, Haverstead will be free from fear."

---

As we left the tavern, the air outside felt lighter, almost electric with the promise of action. Myra and Lira walked beside me, their steps purposeful.

"You have a knack for speeches," Myra said, her lips curving into a faint smile.

"Words are cheap," I replied. "Results are what matter."

We turned the corner toward the inn and found Faco waiting for us by the door. He straightened as we approached, his face flushed from exertion but lit with triumph.

"I followed him," Faco said, his voice eager. "The head knight went to the back gates and slipped out toward the forest. He met with someone—probably one of the bandits—and passed along your false plan. They're going to attack tomorrow, just after sunset."

I allowed myself a small smile. "Good work, Faco. Very good work."

The boy beamed at the praise, his youthful pride shining through.

Inside the inn, we gathered in the common room, the wooden table worn but sturdy beneath our hands. I glanced around at my companions, their faces a mix of anticipation and fatigue.

"You've all done well," I said, my tone carrying a rare warmth. "Tonight, we celebrate. Order whatever food and drink this town can provide. We've earned it."

Lira raised an eyebrow. "A celebration before the battle?"

"A small one," I clarified, leaning back in my chair. "We need to keep morale high. Besides, tomorrow, we turn the tables on our enemies. Let's enjoy the calm before the storm."

They nodded, and the room began to hum with quiet excitement as the innkeeper brought out platters of food and mugs of ale.

As I watched my small but capable group, a thought struck me. This was only the beginning. The path ahead would be long and treacherous, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt the stirrings of true purpose.

Tomorrow, the bandits would learn the cost of underestimating me. And this village would see the power of a sovereign who refused to bow.