Chapter 41: After the Storm
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: Slightly Wounded (Minor Cut on Left Arm)
Equipment: Steel Longsword, Reinforced Chainmail, Leather Cloak
Mount: Brown Destrier
Morale: Steady
Status of Silver's Warband:
Total Soldiers: 93 (Five soldiers wounded, two in critical condition)
Ranks:
63 Privates
20 Corporals
8 Sergeants
2 Lieutenants (Revan, Harlon)
Supplies: Dwindling (Grain, Dried Meat, Water)
Weapons: Mixed (Spears, Swords, Bows)
Armor: Basic Leather and Chainmail
Morale: Determined, but Strained
Current Location: Rithgar Village
Next Objective: Recover and prepare for the next threat
---
The sun hung low in the sky, casting its golden glow over the fields of Rithgar. Smoke still curled from the remnants of the battle, and the air was thick with the acrid stench of blood and burnt wood. Crows circled above, their sharp cries echoing across the silent village.
Dikun Silver stood at the center of the battlefield, his sword tip resting against the dirt. Around him, the bodies of fallen soldiers littered the ground — a grim reminder of the cost of victory.
"We held," Revan said, stepping to his side, his spear still stained with blood. "Barely."
Dikun nodded, his eyes scanning the remnants of his warband. The wounded were being tended to by villagers, while the dead were laid side by side, their weapons placed at their feet in respect.
"They'll return," Dikun said grimly. "Varrin is not the kind of man to accept defeat. This was only the beginning."
Harlon grunted, his massive frame coated in dirt and sweat. "Then we make sure we're ready."
---
Tending to the Wounded
The village square had been hastily converted into a field hospital. Elira, the village healer, moved quickly among the wounded, her hands stained red as she worked. Dikun knelt beside one of his soldiers — a young private named Corvin, whose leg had been pierced by a spear.
"You did well, Corvin," Dikun said, his voice low but firm. "Hold on. The healer will see to you."
The young man winced, his pale face contorted in pain. "Did… did we win, Captain?"
"We did," Dikun reassured him. "Because of men like you."
Corvin managed a weak nod, his breathing ragged. Dikun's hand lingered on the boy's shoulder for a moment before he stood.
"Elira," he called softly.
The healer nodded, quickly gathering her herbs and bandages. "I'll do what I can."
---
A Leader's Burden
As the last light of day faded, Dikun gathered his remaining officers. They stood in a small circle beneath the village's battered watchtower, their faces illuminated by the flickering glow of a nearby brazier.
"We lost five men," Harlon reported, his jaw tight. "And a dozen more are too wounded to fight."
Dikun's expression hardened. "We'll honor our dead. But we can't linger. Varrin will regroup, and we can't be caught unprepared."
Revan nodded. "We'll fortify the village. Reinforce the gates, dig trenches — whatever it takes."
"And the people?" Harlon asked. "They fought well today, but they're no army."
"They're survivors," Dikun replied. "But you're right. We can't rely on them for the next battle."
He paused, his gaze flickering toward the horizon. "We need more men. More supplies. And we need allies."
A heavy silence followed, but no one disagreed.
"We'll rest tonight," Dikun continued, his voice firm. "But at dawn, we prepare. Rithgar will stand."
---
A Quiet Resolve
Later that night, Dikun sat alone on the edge of the village well, the weight of the day's battle pressing down upon him. The distant cries of the wounded echoed softly, mingling with the crackle of the dying fires.
He traced a hand over the dried blood on his arm, the sting of the cut beneath a dull reminder. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the burden he carried. Lives had been lost under his command. Every decision he made held the weight of those who followed him.
Footsteps approached. Dikun didn't turn, already recognizing the familiar presence. Revan lowered himself beside him, his spear resting against the stone.
"You did well today," Revan said quietly.
Dikun exhaled slowly. "Did I?"
"The men believe in you," Revan replied. "And so do I. Varrin thought he could break us, but we proved him wrong."
For a moment, neither spoke. The sky above gleamed with stars, their light unwavering against the darkened world.
"I'll carry their names," Dikun murmured at last. "Every man who falls under my command — I won't forget them."
Revan nodded, his voice steady. "And you'll lead the rest to victory."
A flicker of determination stirred within Dikun. He rose to his feet, his gaze fixed firmly on the distant horizon. The road ahead would not be easy. Stronger foes awaited, and the tides of war would show no mercy.
But Dikun Silver would endure.
The storm had passed, but the echoes of battle remained. And as long as he stood, so too would the Silver's Warband.
To be continued...