Chapter 35: Whispers of Conflict

Status of Dikun Silver:

Name: Dikun Silver

Age: 21

Rank: Captain of the Silver's Warband

Reputation: Defender of Rithgar, Rising Leader, Potential Ally of House Carlin

Health: Healthy

Equipment: Steel Longsword, Reinforced Chainmail, Leather Cloak

Mount: Brown Destrier

Morale: High

Status of Silver's Warband:

Total Soldiers: 98 (Two soldiers still recovering from wounds)

Ranks:

68 Privates

20 Corporals

8 Sergeants

2 Lieutenants (Revan, Harlon)

Supplies: Moderate (Grain, Dried Meat, Water, and Ale)

Weapons: Mixed (Spears, Swords, Bows)

Armor: Basic Leather and Chainmail

Morale: High

Current Location: Rithgar Village

Next Objective: Prepare for retaliation from Lord Varrin, Gain allies, Train villagers for combat

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Morning Resolutions

The dawn came swift, its pale light casting long shadows over Rithgar's palisade. Dikun Silver stood at the outskirts of the village, his gaze scanning the distant hills. The brief meeting with Lady Evelyne weighed heavily on his mind. An alliance with House Carlin was promising, but it was not yet secured. Trust was something earned — not granted.

"Captain."

Revan's voice broke through the morning quiet. He approached, followed closely by Harlon, both with expressions of quiet anticipation.

"Scouts report no movement from Varrin's forces," Revan said. "For now, the village remains untouched."

"But it won't last," Harlon added. "Varrin's pride was bruised. He'll return."

Dikun nodded, his fingers absentmindedly tapping against the hilt of his sword. "We'll be ready."

"But there's another matter," Revan continued, lowering his voice. "Some of the villagers are uneasy. Rumors are spreading."

"Rumors?"

"That you intend to lead them into war. That you'll bring Varrin's wrath upon their heads."

Dikun exhaled slowly. Fear had a way of spreading faster than any army. He couldn't blame them — these people had endured years of hardship under Varrin's rule. Trust was fragile.

"I'll speak to them," Dikun said firmly. "But not with words alone. Actions will prove my resolve."

---

Addressing the People

By midday, the villagers gathered in the square. Farmers, tradesmen, and weary mothers clutched their children as Dikun stepped forward. His warband stood at ease nearby, their presence a constant reminder of the strength that now guarded Rithgar.

Dikun's voice was steady as he began. "I know the fear that weighs on your hearts. You've suffered beneath Varrin's shadow for too long, and now, you fear what my presence may bring."

The murmurs of agreement echoed through the crowd. Dikun continued, his eyes meeting theirs with unwavering resolve.

"But understand this — my men and I did not come to take from you. We came to stand with you. When Varrin's men demanded your silver, we stood in their way. When they sought to break your spirit, we gave you the means to fight back."

The crowd shifted, uncertainty lingering.

"You are not weak," Dikun said, his voice rising. "You are not mere subjects. You are people of Calradia. And no lord has the right to strip you of your dignity. But if Varrin comes, we will face him — together."

A silence settled. Then, from the crowd, the farmer Rolf spoke. "And if we lose? What then?"

Dikun met the man's gaze. "Then we will rise again. But I promise you this — I will not abandon you. My sword is yours until this village is free."

For a moment, the only sound was the breeze whispering through the trees. Then, slowly, a few heads nodded. The fear had not vanished, but a spark of belief had been rekindled.

---

Discipline and Drills

The following days were marked by relentless training. Dikun led the villagers through the fundamentals of combat — shield formations, spear thrusts, and coordinated movement. It was grueling work, but the people of Rithgar endured it with quiet determination.

Harlon barked commands as he oversaw the spear drills, while Revan led small skirmishes, forcing the villagers to adapt under pressure. The makeshift soldiers stumbled often, but with each failure came progress.

"You're too predictable, Rolf!" Revan's voice rang out as the farmer lunged clumsily. "Think before you move! The enemy won't wait for you to recover."

Panting heavily, Rolf reset his stance. Dikun, watching from the side, stepped forward.

"Again," Dikun instructed, taking a position opposite Rolf. "But this time, don't just rely on strength. Control your fear. Read your opponent."

Rolf swallowed hard but nodded. He thrust his spear forward, but Dikun sidestepped effortlessly. Before Rolf could react, Dikun's training sword tapped against his shoulder.

"Dead," Dikun said simply. "But you learned."

Rolf straightened, frustration giving way to reluctant respect. "Aye, Captain."

---

A Moment of Rest

That evening, the village square was alight with the glow of campfires. The laughter of soldiers mingled with the crackling of burning logs. Dikun sat with Revan and Harlon, a rare moment of respite settling over them.

"You ever think we'd end up here?" Harlon mused, swishing his tankard of watered ale. "Fighting for a village no one's ever heard of?"

Dikun smirked. "Calradia has a strange way of leading men down unexpected paths."

Revan chuckled. "And yet, I'd wager most of the men would follow you to the ends of the earth."

Dikun's expression grew thoughtful. "Because they know I'd do the same for them."

A comfortable silence fell. In the distance, the villagers shared stories of their families, of harvests long past and laughter once stolen by war. For the first time in years, the warmth of hope flickered in Rithgar.

But Dikun knew the night's peace was only temporary. Varrin would return. And when he did, the Silver's Warband would stand ready.

To be continued...