THE EAR ARCHER Part 1 (Completed) #wattys2022

THE MONSTER CALLED WAR

"my lord", the unnamed turned around to face his huge,hairy lieutenant
      " it's time my lord"

Back at Yart's abode, the morning was grim for Yart. He looked at Gob's bed,  the latter was still sleeping peacefully as any creature would.  His cheek had healed considerably.
     despite the boy's vexatious behavior, he was still a kid, a kid he loved.  He pounded about letting the kid go, he had lost a son to the clutches of war once,  he wasn't sure he was ready to do it again.  But then, it was Gob's decision to make.
      Gob awoke from sleep, he knew something was out of place, but he couldn't remember what it was. Then it struck him.  He was late for war.
Immediately he got his uniform it felt as if he was going for a patrol other than war, they couldn't even get him one of those shiny armors.  He hurried over cleaning up.
    Yart patiently watching him from his recliner, his pipe firmly wedged between his lips.  Gob was excited finally he had a chance to write history,  to brag about being at war.  Yart looked at him astonished with his stupidity.
   " see you in the evening Yart " Gob declared casually as he walked towards the door with his rusty blade in hand.  Yart chuckled inwardly, he wished Gob knew that people didn't come back from war.
  "wait! "
"come on Yart " Gob moaned "this isn't time for one of your rustic talk seminars.
"behind the shelf"
"seriously?
"yes seriously"
Gob relented and did as he was told. To his surprise, there was a blade waiting for him. He took it from its resting place to examine.
"it's sheath made from hard wood, blade from the finest refined ores. I like to call it Nasul. A blacksmith always has one, one masterpiece. This is the best sword I've ever made. And I have decided you should have it".
Gob was utter less. He drew the sword from its sheath. It was every bit as beautiful as Yart promised.
"what about the design on the blade?"
"it's just a design "
"it's beautiful, thank you "
"and one more thing "
"yes? "
"bring your ass back alive".
"of course " Gob replied with a laugh.
Yart was exhaling tobacco from his lungs as he heard Gob canter away on his skinny horse. He was worried but there was nothing he could do,  he could only hope Paul would decipher the symbol in time.
Gob and Rutherford stood among 198 men. Commander Paul rumbled over some seemingly inspirational speech.
  Gob was ecstatic. Back home, only the best archers went to war, a category he had zero affiliation with.
  Rutherford nudged him forcing him out of his thoughts. Gob realized the entire hall was screaming on top of their lungs. Well sometimes we have to follow the multitude to do the wrong. Ignorantly, Gob yelled.
The field of corpse, that was the location commander Paul received from Intel. The field of corpse was more or less a cemetery. It was from this location that the robbers supposedly lived while they terrorized the city.  Commander Paul had his suspicion about the Intel,  but it' was the only lead he had.
     Suspecting an ambush, he divided his army into two, a division of archers were to lie in ambush while he advanced with the other.   Gob had a wonderful smile on his face.  The smile had been there since the army left the military head quarters. Finally, he was a man, a man going to war.
  Rutherford on the other hand was extremely tensed, the Prince had asked for re- enforcements when he was just  inaugurated Sergeant. He was exempted from it because he was just newly married. His elder brother had gone and since then,  he's hadn't heard of him. He loathed war,  all he wanted was to raise his kids
Without fear.
   Bern was a nice horse, her grey skin was a beauty.  She was given to her rider,a gift from the Prince. Her instincts were sharp and her speed astonishing, it' was this horse that the commander Paul rode on.
   One advantage the army had over the robbers was,  the field of corpse was a plain area of land, no trees,  no hideouts, no rocks, nothing but a vast land covered with grasses.
    Yart was worried, by now,  Paul was supposed to be able to decipher the symbol, he had no idea what to do, following them was out of question, he could only wait patiently. Slowly,  he reached for his pipe.
      The horses of one hundred and twenty men following the commander trotted slowly across the pains.  It reminded the commander of old times.  The Prince was only sixteen,  then he was a senior commander serving directly under the high general Yart.  The prince was preparing a Calvary of men to attack the rear of the army of Falcons,, the high general had given him a letter to deliver hurriedly to the Prince. Along the way,  out of curiosity,  he had opened it and what he saw was the dance symbol Yart sent him. 
    He had dutifully delivered the letter but still,  it didn't make any sense, he still couldn't understand.
  As commander, he was tasked not just with leading men to war but also protecting the lives of his men Just like the Prince withdrew from engaging just to save his men's life.
     It then hit him.  The Prince withdrew after he received the letter from Yart.
The symbol meant "disengage ".