A large crew of people came to sight. Count Cinan was in front, his expression sad and depressed. He stepped forward to carry on with the red tape.
"Count Cinan greets your highness." He lowered his back. When Kevon Cinan saw his dad, he jolted vigorously as if that would release him from the shackles holding him bound.
"Dad! Dad!"
"Count Cinan, you brought so many people to welcome me. It's actually not necessary. I only came to return your son." Mo shot him a low gaze. Obviously, the count was prepared for a possible violence. Mo had no intention of going head-on with the Cinan clan. He only hoped that an amicable process of exchange could materialize.
On the other hand, the count wasn't a fool to think that a mere exchange will cool off the event. It had being long enough but the day he'd long awaited for decades had finally surfaced. The constant skepticism the king had maintained coupled with the exacerbation created by the so called prophecy was liberal enough to put the nobles on thorough guard, let alone the Cinan clan who served the predecessors of the incumbent regime.
The Gusloes were rooted out when king Elead matched with his troops and annihilated the red armour camp who was then commanded by Lord Cinan. Some loyal officers were put to death but Cinan surrendered the seal and was spared. He made up his mind to discontinue this period of unsuccessfully restrained guilt of a life. His comrades were gone and he'd been under dern surveillance.
"You're late, your highness. It is above my expectation to live up to this day. I've gotten to the end of the road. Whether or not I get my son back, the end is fixed and inevitable." He took his sight to the sky, heaving a sigh. "It's getting dark. Your highness, I'm afraid you won't be able to go back today."
Mo carefully dismounted from his horse, and walked up to meet the crew at the entrance of the drawbridge gate. Hilbwet attempted to go with him but Mo stopped his guard. He got close to count Cinan, clasping his hands behind. He pondered for an uncertain period of time before responding.
"Truth be told. I am not able to save you but I can save your son. At least, your name will get to see the light of the day." The matter seemed more complicated than Mo thought. The apparent suicidal attempt of count Cinan came as he had no other option. Moreover, the past events of the Gusloes' regime etched a terrible mixture of guilt, sadness and misery that could not be everlastingly expunged. Prince Mo, of course, wasn't born as of then, hence he could only imagine.
After a few seconds of looking at Mo with the hint of an alarm, Cinan fell into fits of laughter. The laughter lasted for a long while, and Mo could only stare expressionlessly at the miserable count.
"Do you even know your father? If I'm to make a guess, we are furtively under close watch. Come off it, your highness. At this point, not even the gods can change my fate, much less you."
"What has this got to do with my father?" Prince Mo asked. After a moment of silence, count Cinan answered but it wasn't in correspondence to the question. There was no use in giving too much explanation with death around the corner.
"I've decided not to die as a coward so that when I get to the underworld, I'll be able to give my comrades an explanation."
"Is old age starting to tell on your brain? You revolted against the Freydor dynasty and usurped the throne with that bastard of a king. Were you expecting to go scot-free after Gusloe's lese-majesty? You can say karma have caught up with you. What's more, had it been you refused to surrender the bronze seal, that would have been the day you died. Regardless, the bronze seal would be easily taken from you. This ridiculous audacity of yours is a blatant act of folly." Count Cinan became silent not because he was short of words. Talking to a young, inexperienced person about the past wasn't worth it to him.
"You won't understand. The Freydors monopolized the whole prefectures. The administration was poor. What more do you expect? You're now the keeper of the seal. You command a troop of warriors at such a young age. Good for you your highness. Didn't they say the seal was taken to Fense county? It is all yours to take back." Mo's mind soon drifted back to business. He paid too much attention to a less important issue, luring him into a futile conversation of trying to convince a man who was hell bent on getting to the underworld sooner rather than later.
"Where is it?"
"Up." He said, poking an index finger upward in the empty air. "They said it's on the gate of Fense county. Why not invade the fortification and get it yourself. By so doing, you'll shut the mouths of those who look down on you." Mo didn't even bother to look up after hearing the speech of the once renowned general. Instead, his eyes were glimmering with suspicion. His stayed put frame displayed hesitance to move even an inch. Clear enough, the count was determined to go head-on.
"You must've taken it or else the walls would've been fortified. You're just a petty officer with no military power. Now I think I understand how miserable the Cinan clan is." Mo directed his eyes to the people who were with Cinan. They were dressed like civilians. They were well-built, poker faced and seemed ready to take an order. Most of them even had turbans winded around their heads. A question of who the hell they were constructed an even more suspicious look on Mo. It's impossible for these men to be innocent civilians. Count Cinan laughed as if amused by Mo's state of wonder.
The cheery mood of Cinan stopped brusquely. He then spoke with a loud and clear voice. "My son, none of us can escape tonight. Don't be fooled. You are indeed unfortunate to be brought into the Cinan family that have fallen from glory. Do not fear. The rest awaits us!" More tears rolled down from Kevon's eyes as he smiled wistfully without uttering a word. Mo maintained his eyes on the mad man who doesn't want his foster son back.
Cinan took out the seal from his clothes - a pentagonal metal consisting of two magnetic parts of equal dimensions. He held the parts on each hand, and as he brought them closer, they attracted to form a single pentagon. Once done, he laughed again as if merging the seal was the most exciting thing he'd ever done.
"When the seal was taken from me, I never expected to use it again. Now I can't believe that the seal is right in my hand." He said, staring cheerily at the seal with lit up eyes. Mo hazily watched the item entrusted to him in the hands of another with a seemingly treacherous intention.
He raised the seal toward the sky and spoke loudly again. "Red Armour Camp, heed my order as the bronze seal holder. Today, we will use the bait set by our enemies to pay for deserting our comrades. We won't die silently like cowards. We have nothing to lose in the face of death. Let the anarchy begin!"
"Red Armour Camp?" Mo lips curved slightly at the knowledge he just got.
"Yes. They are Red Armour Camp soldiers who scattered all over after the war." Count Cinan answered with a profound joy no one knew where it came. In the meantime, instead of the disguised solders to charge forward and attack, they ran back into the county with thunderous outcries. Count Cinan turned and went back with them while laughing aloud, impressed by the chaotic scene he had incited.
Mo was completely baffled. His eyebrows knitted, breath becoming heavy with exasperation.
"Your highness, Let's give a chase. The bronze seal must be regained." Mo turned to see Hilbwet theming with keen interest, not dissimilar to a hungry dog about to go after a drumstick. Mo replied immediately.
"Pursue but be careful. Don't hurt the civilians."
"What about him?" Mo glanced at Kevon and spoke after a quick thought.
"He's coming with us."
"I'm afraid we're being lured into a trap." Lores who had being viewing the whole time interfered.
"Seven, we have no choice. We have to go after them, lest more damages be done." With these words, Mo jumped on his horse that was already pulled close by Hilbwet.
"Pursue!" Mo barked and they all sped past the gate. Inside Fense county was raucous. People ran headlong for their lives as unending screams and squalls of kids pervaded the air. Several Jars of wine were smashed to smithereens leading to a subsequent explosion that was deafening, shaking the earth for some few seconds. Some civilians were either injured or died from the outcome.
Several other explosions occured. A cloud of smouldering smoke blurred the atmosphere. The cataclysm could be likened to a large scale of armageddon threatening to eliminate every single soul found in Fense county. Unfortunately for the Black Iron Cavalry, the outlaws they gave a hot pursuit mingled with the civilians, becoming difficult to detect.
Lores watched the turn out with the already etched memory of how his relatives were killed in a violent war. People suffer a lot during times like this. He would give his all to end the conflict, calming the atmosphere for these helpless people.
The soldiers urged one another to be on the look out as they darted their gazes. The horses they sat on were startled by all the noise. They jostled uncomfortably before eventually throwing off their riders. The soldiers, uncaring about their present condition, got up quickly and rushed to assist the prince rise to his feet.
"Your highness! Your highness!"
"Your highness, are you alright?" Hilbwet inquired. Mo nodded with a sigh. Born in a peaceful era, never in his life had he experienced something of this sort.
"I'm fine." He caught sight of Lores lying near a critically broken table, his face smeared with coal. A reprised cough blasted from his larynx. Lores' gaze was indistinct, and all he could hear was "Seven". Before he could trace the source, a hand clutched his own and pulled him to his feet. In a split second, Mo became visible in front of him.
"Are you alright?" Lores nodded while coughing recurrently. A choking sensation clogged the passage of air along his throat and he couldn't restrain the torrent of coughs that forced their way out. When he raised his head, a presented black woven fabric welcomed him.
"Black Iron Cavalry's mask. You need it." A voice came thereafter. Lores stared at the mask and then at Mo before accepting it. Even Mo knows that comrades should stick together he thought and smiled internally.
"Thanks." He blurted and hid the lower half of his face with the mask.
"Your highness, that lunatic is not going to let you off." Just after those words came from Lores, a flurry of arrows, heads burning in flames, flew fiercely towards Black Iron Cavalry.
"Protect the prince!" Hilbwet barked.
The soldiers began to cluster around Mo. They instantly drew out their swords and began to fend off the arrows.
Lores deflected every single arrow that aimed at him. Hilbwet rushed in front of Mo and fended off the arrows. However, a few were hit but thanks to the hard steel covering them; they were mildly affected. Howbeit, those who came in contact with pulverized explosives or wine ignited in flames. Their comrades quickly came to their rescue, using clothes and sand to put off the fire.
Everyone was defending themselves and had no time to look after Kevon. Unfortunately for Kevon, he was struck by an arrow and was caught up in flames.
After long, the myriad of arrows ceased.
Mo watched the anarchy happening before his eyes with both anger and compassion. He shared his troops into two. One part was tasked with putting out the fire and rescuing the civilians while the other part hunted those lunatics.
Unbeknownst to a particular target, a volant arrow dazzling with flame came from no where, aiming at the prince who was unable to optically follow the projectile. Just as Mo eventually thought that he was hit, a clang was heard, the arrow deflecting aside. A swung sword remained still in the air like a statue capable of commanding respect. The holder's facial look could not be fathomed because his face was half- hidden by a black mask. It was like a god appeared out of nowhere from the smouldering smoke to turn the situation around.
Lores had swung his sword to save the prince. Mo was owly-eyed for a while, short of words. Lores brought down his sword, giving a quick and unfathomable look to Mo. A voice came to his head after the heroic display.
"If you die, how I'm I going to find my father?"