Astoria

f i f t y - s i x

The guard nodded, speaking to the others, before mounting his horse and riding off towards the pinking horizon.

***

Antony's gaze swept the battlefield, taking stock of the forces of the enemy and of his own men. The enemy had a very slight advantage, but the fight may still be won.

He swiped a hand across his forehead, smearing blood from an earlier wound upon his glove. He ignored it and took Emery's reigns in hand.

Raising his sword in the air, he rallied his men. "For Astoria!" he yelled.

"For Astoria!" he heard their answering cries as they threw themselves into the fray once more with renewed vigor.

Later, he walked through the battlefield, head lowered. He reached a man he recognized and bent down. He rested two fingers on the man's throat, searching for a pulse. Finding none, he sighed heavily and gently closed the man's eyes, standing once more.

He continued on this harrowing mission of accounting for all of his men.

He found one of the soldiers kneeling over a fallen man, his head bent low. He reached the man's side and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said, recognizing the soldier, a man named Caleb, and his dear friend Josh, the man on the ground.

Caleb nodded. Antony offered him his hand and Caleb took it, allowing the king to help him to his feet.

They soon reached the camp they had made on the other side of the field, the Astorian flag flying high above it.

Kade came out to meet them. "The rebels are obviously becoming braver with their attacks. We're seeing more and more," he said, grimly.

Antony nodded, watching thoughtfully as Caleb headed deeper into the camp, leaving him to speak with Kade. "We may be standing on the brink of facing one of the darkest times of the Empire of Astoria."

Kade sighed, but did not respond. Instead, he simply nodded towards Antony, his gaze on his friend's forehead. "You might want to get that cleaned up." He then turned and walked away, his posture dejected. Antony watched him until he disappeared into his tent, the flap falling closed behind him.

Antony sighed and began to make his way to the physician's tent. He had barely gone a few steps when he heard a shout.

He turned around, squinting into the setting sun of evening, watching the man on a horse. As the rider drew nearer, Antony saw him raise the Astorian standard, a gold lion on a background of crimson red.

He now hurried in the direction of the rider, worry for what message he bore spurring him forward, no matter the exhaustion he felt from the day's battle.

The rider reached him and hurried to dismount.

As the rider turned to face him, Antony was shocked to see the man grinning widely, looking overjoyed about something.

The man struggled to catch his breath from the combination of shouting and riding.

"What is it?" demanded Antony, a kind of hope growing inside him. "What's happened?"

"It's the princess!" gasped the man, grinning more widely than ever. "She's back! She's returned to us!"

Antony stared at him, his mouth half open. He found himself laughing, then smiling uncontrollably. "Isabella's back?" he repeated, almost unable to believe what he had heard. "She's safe? She's...she's safe!" He laughed again, clapping the guard on the back. "She's...she's alright!"