The remaining Barclay troops had reford in front of the outer walls of the castle. We marched up with a white flag to signal that we wanted to talk. It dawned on then, at that unusual mont, that I’d have to ask soone what the signal for surrender was. If not a white flag, then what? I hoped it was underwear. That’d perfectly befit a surrender.
Regardless, I’d brought two of their officers willing to ask their counterparts to concede the walls.
“We can allow you to pass, Your Highness, but not your army.”
“Well, that’s not happening.”
“The dowager instructed us to defend these walls at all costs.”
“I don’t recognize that old woman as a legitimate authority.”
“Yes, well-”
“Look, we are treating your wounded and we haven’t executed anyone from your surrendered. We offer you the sa respite and fair treatnt. Also, your priests are crushed and scattered, and we control the magical advantage.”
It was surprising how little the Barclay troops resisted, once under our control. Their weapons were removed, of course, but even then they outnumbered us. Any given group of them could overpower their imdiate captors and attempt to flee. None did.
It was the mages. Once we had magical supremacy, hope of escape was lost. A single mage could easily and without much effort kill a large number of soldiers and everyone knew this. Except for , until I worked it out in my head. Mages were the single most powerful beings on any battlefield. A state of affairs I welcod on this day, but loathed in my heart.
One of the newly captured officers accompanying said, “It’s true, they’ve treated us with respect and decency.”
I gave these guys the sa speech I’d given earlier, “I consider the Barclay lands as part of my kingdom and therefore you soldiers as people under my protection. I request that you lay down your arms and allow us to pass. I wish to speak with the remaining Barclay family and return the body of their late duke. Who, besides the dowager, is in charge?”
“My lady, the dowager-regent is now in charge, especially if the duke is passed.”
“As reigning monarch, I remove her from power. Now you can lay down your arms and you won’t be breaking any laws. Please, have your n arrest the dowager.”
He stared at blankly, clearly not knowing what to do. The officer I brought with rode his horse ahead, “You heard the princess! Lay down your arms and open the gates!”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
I again said to the confused soldier, in case he didn’t understand it the first ti, “Listen, you have few remaining priests and I have a full contingent of mages and an army that won the battlefield without taking losses. If you don’t open those doors and lay down your arms, you will be responsible for every last man’s death here.” We had taken a few losses, but no need to tell him that. Enemy archers, peltasts and cavalry got a few lucky hits on my troops. So accidents, too. Nothing compared to what the other side suffered, though.
His face hardened, slowly becoming calm as he made up his mind. He forced himself to nod, tight lips. Then wheeled his horse around, shouting, “Open the gates! Co down from the walls and form up. The duke is dead! Long live the princess!”
“My lady,” Brundle started, “we should disarm them, too.”
“If they are our countryn, there’s no need. Also, the mages are on our side. Any aggression on their part will be t with overwhelming force.”
“You think common soldiers understand that?”
“Brundle, war is your business. Disarm these n as you see fit. But keep it professional, don’t let our soldiers get out of line.” Throughout history, the taking of cities was never pretty and the concept of morality in war was a late invention. “I don’t want my soldiers committing atrocities here. We are not sacking these lands, this castle or the village around it.”
“Understood, Your Highness.”
It took so ti, but the Barclay troops ford lines along the road, standing at attention. As we entered the castle, Brundle ordered our troops to the walls, defensive formations to ride parallel to us outside their lines. Our soldiers therefore marched through and around the Barclay forces, making it suicidal for any to attack us.
I rode through the middle, flanked by Morry on one side, Brundle on the other, the Companions behind us. I wasn’t overly concerned. We weren’t in any danger, especially wearing this armor.
As we arrived at the castle proper, Barclay troops were dragging a screaming elderly woman away. Well, that precluded any villain soliloquies. It was a relief not needing to interact with her again. She’d just bla for everything, call demonic, and so on. With luck, they had padded cells here. Pleasant, comfortable stone-wall padding. Friendly, inviting iron bars for windows.
Her red hair out and blowing in the wind, Sapphire stood waiting for us. No mirth or joy reached her green eyes and it was like I was eting a different person. Beside her, a younger and older woman, and two children, a little boy and girl.
I got down from the horse and took my helt off. “Lady Sapphire, I wish it were under better circumstances, but it is good to see you again.”
“Princess Cayce.” She attempted a stoic face, but her bottom lip and chin trembled, “My brother?”
“I’m sorry.”
The little girl began to wail and hugged the boy. Tears fell out of Sapphire’s eyes, down her face and I felt horrible.
“He shouldn’t have . . .” her gaze landed on the doors through which the troops had taken the screaming dowager, “listened to her lies.” Saph approached , “She promised him the kingdom. Even after you declined marriage, she told him that he’d beat you in battle and he believed it.”
“Oh, Saph,” I said, hurried over and took her in my arms, “I really am sorry.”
Saph whispered into my ear, “Are you going to have us killed?”
“No, no. Never. I’m going to make you duchess. But you need to retake your oaths to and promise not to follow in the footsteps of your father and brother.”
Her cheek nearly touching mine, she said, “You are ever foolish, Cayce. But kind.”
I took her shoulders and pushed her away a bit, to look into her face, “I’m going to enshrine it into law that only won can lead the Barclay duchy. To hell with the n!”
She began sobbing uncontrollably and threw her arms around again, tears falling onto my hard, steel armor.
User Comments
0 comments from readers