Rebellion: Prince of Dawn

Chapter 1.2: End of the Rebellion

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DECAN LANCASTER

It took our host four weeks to march from Harkhall to the Capital.

I, along with Ser Castell, Patch, knights sworn to me, and a Lancaster flag-bearer rode at the front of the army with the lords and their courts riding behind. Behind them were the footsoldiers of each house lined in rows of four in the same order. Outside of the rows, drummers controlled the pace of the march.

The quickest way to the Capital was down the LaFleur Highway, which led straight to the city. If this were any other war, going down this path was a fool's decision. However, we could not afford to get there any other way.

There were three towns along the LaFleur Highway between Harkhall and the Capital.

By the end of our first week's march, we managed to make it all the way to Tarrin—which was the closest town to Harkhall. Our forces set up camp just outside of town while the lords spent the night in its various inns.

During the middle of the night, some of our men got drunk and began assaulting the townsfolk. Come by morning, all of the troublemakers were seized and left behind, leaving the Tarrinians to pass judgment however they saw fit.

We passed by no towns during our march on the second and third weeks except for a few settlements and farms here and there. Camp was set up just outside of forests and, except for a few instances where soldiers would yell out in their drunkenness, the nights went on peacefully as if a slumbering babe.

On the final day of the fourth week, we arrived at Rikaris—the second town—and set up camp just on the outskirts of its community. Even though we still had two hours before sunset, we agreed that since we would be arriving at the Capital the next day, it would be best if we got just a bit more rest.

The soldiers were more behaved tonight as opposed to our stay at Tarrin. Either because they were trying to get as much rest before tomorrow's inevitable confrontation or they knew I would hold no mercy against anyone who assaulted the townsfolk this time around.

My instincts told me that it was a mixture of both. No news of trouble arose when morning came.

We continued our march on the next day and, by midday, passed by Wesellia—the third village. From Wesellia, we were close enough to see plumes of smoke rising from the city.

By mid-afternoon, our host was on the outskirts of the Capital.

A lone messenger from Minerva rode to us carrying a banner of House Mobley's blue feather. "Good to see you, my lord."

"News of the battle?"

"We've made it into the entertainment district but there's been no progress on the siege since then. We were delighted when Lord Salazar arrived, but King Diablo had summoned for reinforcements and Lord Nelbrandt is trying to flank us. Lord Salazar had to take his forces to intercept them. Lord Minerva needs more help."

"Let him know that we've arrived and we'll be making them fight a battle on two fronts. We're going to attack from the Sludge Gate so make sure he is ready when my father's forces break formation."

"Yes, my lord," the messenger bowed before racing back to his liege.

My forces made their way to the Sludge Gate, crossing a bridge and quietly trekking on an ascending hill.

The Sludge Gate was the weakest part of the city's outer wall as the foundations it was built on were always sinking.

Unlike the other portcullises in the city that were made of cold-rolled steel, the one that guarded the Sludge Gate was made of copper. Copper was malleable, allowing it to change shape with the walls it was bound to.