Archers littered the walls of Ravenscourt, each of them on edge as they studied the vast army that had stationed themselves out of reach of their arrows.
The army littered the landscape, a horde of people and tents scurrying around like ants gave little to ease the pressure on the sentries viewing them from on top of the walls. Thousands and thousands of men armed with deadly weapons preparing themselves for the ensuing onslaught that was undoubtedly going to happen.
Ethelston placed his hand on the shoulder of an archer "Rest easy friend; it will be some time before the battle begins."
The archer visibly relaxed and smiled as his leige lord walked passed, giving his words of encouragement to the next archer. With Knight Inquisitor Ithelred Renfry, donned in the armour of his house sigil, a golden deer, and Arminell, the city watch captain, both flanking the Duke of Ravenscourt, the tension upon the wall had substantially reduced.
"They respect you," Ithelred commented as the three men came to a standstill, positioning themselves so they could easily see the enemy. "An excellent trait to have as a commander.
"This is not my first siege," explained Ethelston, "I think the men sense it."
"And your other siege?" enquired Ithelred.
"Pel-Merily and Fort Hagen," Ethelston replied in a distinct monotone voice.
Ithelred looked at his counterpart, a touch of scepticism and awe seemed to paint his face. "Fort Hagen? I heard of some troubling rumours about that siege."
Ethelston turned and smiled, yet the smile was forced as memories of the siege flooded his mind. "And the rumours likely pale in comparison to the truth. For there, I managed to see exactly what a person is capable of, good and evil."
Before being drawn into a conversation about a past he'd rather forget, Ethelston turned to Arminell, "Four-hour shifts on the east and southern sides of the wall. Four-hours of drills followed by eight hours of rest. Make sure everyone is alert and ready, but do not push the men to exhaustion; when the battle finally comes, everyone will need to be fit and ready."
"Yes, milord, " Arminell responded.
"And Arminell?" Ethelston called just before the captain had turned away.
"Yes, milord?" he responded, catching his liege's eye.
"Make sure the south is watched and sound the bell on any movement. We have to be prepared in case they try a diversion attack."
Arminell smashed his fist against his chest and nodded at the order before briskly turning around to prepare the defenders' instructions.
"Good thinking, " Ithelred confirmed, "We can expect it once the trebuchets start to fly."
As Ithelred spoke, both men watched as some trees from the forest unceremoniously collapsed to the floor. The trebuchets were being built, which would at least give the army some time to prepare.
A small sigh escaped Ethelston's lips. This would be a hard battle. Outnumbered ten to one, the odds were very much against them, with only the walls standing in the way of the Lionmane army, the situation looked dire.
What if Loldirr could not raise an army, or if she simply got here too late? His legacy as the last Darke of Ravenscourt would be forever engrained in history as the man who foolishly defied the Emperor and suffered the consequence. As the lion of House Cicero would fly over the city signifying Emperor Arnaud's victory, no other person would take up the mantle to defy the Emperor again. He would have failed his country as a Duke; he would have failed his father as a Darke.
As a soft, gentle hand laid upon him, he broke from his trance to turn towards the smiling Erdudvyl. "My Lord, you seem troubled?" she asked.
"Not now you're here, " he replied, smiling as his eyes fixated on hers.
"I know you're busy, so I just wanted to inform you that the infirmaries are ready and prepared. We've gathered all the necessary supplies and have set up a base of operations in the cathedral. Arminell has been extremely helpful with every task I have passed to him." Erdudvyl illustrated.
Despite the stress plaguing him, Ethelston was grateful to have had this journey with the beautiful and intelligent Erdudvyl. When all around him appeared dark, as she stood by his side, it always felt a light had started shining in and around him. Her words, her actions, her personality, seemed to fill him with a strength he never thought he had.
They will win this battle, by any means necessary!
"Thank you, my lady," Ethelston responded.
As her cool, gentle hands brushed away from his, he felt a shudder through his body, as she turned away, he hadn't noticed the huge grin that replaced his frown.
Ithelred nodded and placed his arm across his chest as she floated across the stones to descend the wall. Turning towards his liege lord, he snarled at him. "Your infatuation with the elf is nothing but a prelude to disaster."
Turning his head towards the Knight Inquisitor, Ethelston could feel a rise of anger boil inside of him. "Excuse me?"
"What do you expect to achieve from bedding her? Have your fling and move on; she's a distraction." Ithelred responded, his arms crossed and his gaze callous.
Ethelston used every ounce of his self-discipline not to turn around and land his fist squarely on the Knight Inquisitor's jaw, recalling the need for his experience and influence for the battle ahead. "She is not some fling, nor is she a distraction. She also has a name, Erdudvyl!"
"I couldn't care less for her name. She's an elf, therefore she is detrimental to the cause should you wish to pursue the relationship further."
"My relationship is none of your concern!" Ethelston responded with venomous anger.
Ithelred's constant frown seemed to burrow down even further than before, "Oh but it does, " he responded. "You are the Duke of Ravenscourt, therefore as my liege lord, everything you do becomes my concern. Your actions impact my house, my estate, my family and most importantly, my reputation. Your foolish notion of love is a pointless and fruitless exercise."
Ethelston could not remember the last time he had felt so angry. His rage pictured the multiple ways he could kill Count Renfry, from plucking a knife through his gullet to chucking his muscular frame over the wall to greet the ground below. He took a breathe to control the anger, "Love is not pointless or fruitless."
"It is," Ithelred responded abruptly, "women are for breeding, to further the family line. Love distracts us from what is important. That elf will only taint your bloodline and produce illegitimate offspring who can not take the title of Duke."
Ethelston was astonished by Ithelred's simplistic, ignorant views. He had met nobles with a similar outlook on life before but never had the conversations revolved around him. "Do you think I care for this Dukedom? My life was far simpler before attempting this crusade!" he responded with frustration.
"Do you think I care if you want it or not? Whether you like it or it? You are the Duke of Ravenscourt, and you need to start acting as such. Do you think I want to be here preparing for a battle that we will lose? I'm here because it is right. I am here because you are my liege lord and if an Aex-Igh lives, then the man on the throne is a usurper." Ithelred explained, "it's time you learnt that we do what is right, not what we want. Your father struggled with it too, but ultimately did what was necessary despite the cost, being your mother's life."
Before Ithelred could blink, Ethelston sprung up and grabbed hold of Ithelred's tunic, their faces only inches apart. The archers around them were no longer looking at the army, but looking towards the two nobles squaring each other up.
"Do not talk of my mother as if she was some pawn. It was her blood that covered my hands and clothes as we tried to leave this place all those winters ago, it was her cries, her tears, her... Fuck!"
Ethelston pushed the Knight Inquisitor away before turning towards the wall again. He heaved erratically as his anger flowed through his veins. He needed to regain control of his senses.
Ithelred straightened his tunic and brushed it down. His emotionless eyes stared at the archers, instantly encouraging them to return their focus forward.
"I am sorry for your loss, more than you can ever imagine," Ithelred's voice seemed to break slightly before it returned to its usual stern volume. "Edric did right by the realm, despite the sacrifice. As you will learn, emotion is not a luxury for men in our position to harbour. It is more destructive than the battle we are about to face."
"RIDERS APPROACHING!" a call from further up the wall interrupted.
Both Ithelred and Ethelston looked out towards the sea of soldiers to watch three riders slowly edge towards the gates of Ravenscourt.
"OPEN THE GATES!" Ethelston called as he pushed himself off the wall. Turning towards Ithelred, his face was one of frustration and anger, "I shall take your suggestions under advisement, but we shall never speak of Erdudvyl or my mother again."
Ithelred placed his arm across Ethelston before he could walk away. "I will never pick and choose what advice I give you, just as I never did with your father. If you choose to ignore my advice, then so be it, but until the time that one of us breathes no more, then I will be the parrot on your shoulder, for good and bad."
Grunting, as he pushed the arm away, Ethelston could see why Edric loved and hated the Knight Inquisitor in equal measure. Only time would tell whether having him as an ally was beneficial to the cause.
***
Walking under the Ravenscourt gate's portcullis had always brought a sense of pride to Ethelston, but not today. The anger which Ithelred had stoked meant that Ethelston was simply ready to start a fight with anyone that stood in his way.
As he stepped forward with Ithelred and Arminell, they studied the tall, lean, Sir Bradajois on top of his white steed, with another recognisable figure behind him. The other man's scraggly blonde hair waved frantically in the wind which only seemed to push Ethelston's buttons further.
If it wasn't for the age-old tradition of parlay, Ethelston would have sprinted up to the man, pulled him off his horse by his hair and slaughtered him where he lay, but even Kirken Merrithorpe couldn't be killed in such a dishonourable manner.
"If I have to listen to that shrill voice once more, I may not be responsible for my actions!" Ethelston reacted, causing Arminell to chuckle softly behind him.
As the two horses came to a standstill in front of the three Ravenscourt defenders, Sir Bradajois looked down with a small smile. His long thin face didn't hide the years of his life, and his bushy grey eyebrows and greying eyes didn't hide the discomfort he was experiencing in his full metal armour.
Ethelston had never met the Crimson Knight, a moniker earned by year's of war for both the Aex-Igh's and now Emperor Arnaud, but he had always respected his reputation. Rarely losing a battle, his experience seemed only but to further his aggression on the battlefield. While he was perhaps not the most skilled fighter, even less so since winters of arthritis plagued his body, he had no qualms at throwing men at an enemy to achieve the desired result. He was also a wily strategist meaning this battle was not going to be easy at all.
"Knight Inquisitor, strange to see you on the opposite side of the battlefield." Sir Bradajois spoke in a gentle, articulate manner.
"Sir Bradajois, it has been some time, " Ithelred responded with a small hint of a grin behind his pristine beard.
"The feast at Krakenbridge if I recall?" Sir Bradajois responded.
"Aye, indeed, where Sir Drffyd decided to jump into the river stark naked,"
"Yes, I remember. Considering it was winter, you would have thought that he would have expected the river to be of ice." chuckled Sir Bradajois.
Ithelred laughed, something Ethelston never thought he would ever hear, "Knight Inquisitor Benedict wasn't sure if he should clean up or wait for the ice to melt to take the body away."
The two elder men laughed together while everyone else stared in disbelief.
As the laughter died down, Sir Bradajois glared at his compatriot and smiled, "So tell me, why join this rebellion?"
"There is news of an Aex-Igh; therefore, this is no rebellion, and you stand on the side of a usurper," Ithelred responded.
Leaning forward on his horse, Sir Bradajois gaunt face showed little humour this time, "Yet have you seen this so-called Aex-Igh? I feel this is some rumour to boost the reputation of this new ill-fated Lord Darke and nothing more."
"I must admit, I have not. Yet my conviction to the cause is not less sated."
"Loldirr of house Aex-Igh lives Sir Bradajois," Ethelston interrupted ensuring the mind games could not take hold. "The captain of the guard has also had the pleasure of being in her presence."
Sir Bradajois leant back scornfully, "I have no interest in the word of a peasant. Nor the word of a mercenary. What you do is treason, and your people will suffer if you defy the wishes of the Emperor."
Usually, Ethelston would have tried to temper his anger, but his blood pressure had already significantly risen by the Knight Inquisitor to his side. He was gunning for a fight.
"I fight for my empress, Lady Loldirr of House Aex-Igh, therefore treason falls solely at your feet. I did not come here to discuss concessions or to surrender myself to you; I came to look at my enemy in the eye and to tell you, not today." Ethelston growled.
Sir Bradajois spat on the floor next to him, "So be it, Lord Darke." Nodding his head towards the Knight Inquisitor, he turned his horse to begin the uncomfortable trek back to his army.
Just before Kirken could follow like a lost puppy behind him, Ethelston called out, "And you, Kirken Merrithorpe. You better start praying to the gods; for if I survive this battle and get ahold of you, I will do unspeakable things to you, which you can not imagine."
As Kirken turned his horse to follow Sir Bradajois, his face spoke of fear and anxiety, causing Ethelston to smile and bow mockingly towards him.
"This will be a tough battle," Ithelred spoke candidly as they returned towards the gates of Ravenscourt.
Ethelston nodded, but he seemed distracted from Ithelred's comments. "I agree, yet we have other far more pressing concerns."
Ithelred looked at Ethelston confused by his comment, indeed having a large army at the doors of the city was an extremely pressing matter.
Placing his hand on Arminell's back, Ethelston's voice was one of urgency, "Find me Aryya immediately!"
"Milord?" Arminell responded, sharing Ithelred's misunderstanding.
"It's Kirken," explained Ethelston, "he's been the steward of this city for longer than I have been alive. He'll know most, if not all, of the secret passages to and from the city. If we don't deal with them immediately, the battle will be over before the trebuchets are even built. Find me Aryya; our very lives depend on it!"