Afon was fuming once the story was done, his mouth covered and his feet bouncing. Felix looked shocked, to say the least.
"They are keeping a people enslaved in our very midst," Afon repeated in disbelief.
"That's what Nadia told me, yes," the collie said.
"Are you sure you'd want to confirm that the peace we thought Lusitania established was actually a successful military conquest against a whole people?" Felix gravely wanted to reconfirm, still in a slight disbelief. "My father had done trade with the Nadia you speak of, if she is here, and I knew how she and her people suddenly went out of relevance not too long ago."
"That's exactly why," Cameron nodded. "I think it's true."
"The amazing part is that I think you're right," Felix nodded.
"God help us," Afon repeated.
"God help us," Cameron followed.
"What are you all asking help for?" the fox governor asked, overhearing the last bit of the conversation, approaching the table.
"For the voyage back," Felix answered, lifting his chin and facing the fox, who was clearly intimidated by the royal presence, an answer easy enough to be believed.
"We were wondering, however, if we could stay the night in this beautiful colony," the Cambrian knight barked. "The people seem friendly, and I'm sure that it would be a delightful time, wouldn't you think, Felix?" he asked, and gave the royal lion a sure look.
"Yes, I'd say so," the King replied, realizing the Cambrian knight was likely planning something in his corgi head. Cameron realized this, too, and respectfully kept himself silent.
"In that case, Your Highness, and Sir Afon, you and your men are all welcome. Please enjoy your stay," the fox said, as he departed, delighted that he had such noble company. This Lusitanian colony was panning out to be a success so far. He hoped his own king would reward him greatly, especially when presented with the canine cargo they would eventually load up.
"I'm guessing you've got a plan?" Felix asked Afon.
"Indeed I do, Your Highness," Afon growled, his fist clenching, images of home coming to mind. "We will make Lusitania pay for these crimes, this vital peace having been broken in hunger for power. There's a lot of things I'd suggest you'd do, Felix, but this is what I think we should do tonight in particular. I hate waging war," he sighed, "but... here's what I'm thinking..."
The plan was laid out, discussed by all three.
—
It was the nighttime now. The moon rose high over the shore, the ocean clear in sight. The men of the crew resided on the ship, sleeping there, while the knights of Valentia slept in a large, shared tent, each with their own sleeping-places. Afon, however, was wide awake, and presently made his way over to this mentioned tent.
"Go to the ship, grab your armor and weapons. We go to war as soon as possible, men," he quivered as he ordered. "Felix has made his way to the ship, and is hiding in the storage compartment. Do not reveal his location, even if your life depends on it. For that is the duty of knights like you," he said softly. "Now go, quietly, so we don't alert anyone of concern. We will have an unexpected ally, so... grab and holster as much of the stock of weapons as you can, so they may wield them as well. Come back here, afterwards."
Once the Valentian knights did this, without question, the corgi knight then turned to Cameron, the other armed men behind them. "Lead the way, Cameron, to where you found the wild-dogs," he instructed, although he hated calling them that.
"Yes, Sir," the collie replied, turning and directing the knights to the side of the small camp to the smaller, fenced-off area. Most of the dogs were awake with their queen, and saw this armed crowd approaching. She got up, and then walked over.
"What is it, exactly, that you're doing here!?" she hurriedly and hushedly asked, a worried expression on her face.
"Assisting in your fight. Men, hand over the weapons," Afon directed, pointing his snout to the royal group of dogs. With this order, the knights handed over the spare weapons, in their silver and sharp splendor. "Wake the fighters, what you have left of them, and give them these."
Nadia assessed, stepping back, then smiled. "I owe gratitude to Valentia," she started to give her thanks.
"You owe nothing to anyone except to you and your own," Afon huffed. "Like I said, we fight to free our souls tonight."
Cameron huffed with these words, and grabbed a bow.
"What're you doing, now, Cameron?" Afon asked.
"I want to fight for this, too," the collie barked.
"So be it," the corgi nodded, and put his hand over his blue-armored chest. "I swear on my honor to protect you, then."
—
"Yn enw Duw," Afon affirmed in a low breath, as he stood outside the governor's tent. The fox must have been deeply asleep, for he hadn't been awoken by the presence of what must have been half a hundred fighters. A number of the native dogs under Nadia's command were female, and the Queen herself was armed, too. This made a sizable army. What wasn't clear, however, was what forces the governor could possibly have to counter with. Were there even any fighters whatsoever? Or perhaps there'd be so many, this party wouldn't stand a fighting chance?
There was only one way to find out. Afon turned to Nadia, and asked her this: "Might you know where the Governor keeps his forces, Your Majesty?"
"The bulk lie in the southernmost tent. Thank you, too," Nadia sighed. "It's been a minute since someone other than my own has addressed me by my title."
"Of course. If we win this battle," Afon huffed, "all shall once more. On my honor."
They then went to the tent that Nadia directed to, and held their weapons close. A few of the knights did the sign of the cross, a last blessing before battle, in the absence of any holy figure to officiate this act. "On my mark," the Cambrian corgi directed.
An awful silence.
"Now."
The men yelped and roared, as the women gave out their fierce shout, the lot of them stuffing into the already packed tent. "Forces of this unlawful intrusion! I give you this ultimatum," Afon deeply shouted his command. "Surrender this land to Valentian domain, or face our assembled forces in battle!"
The rivaling men, though barely awake, unfortunately knew what they had to do. They got up from their sleep with swords and other weapons drawn. They must have slept armed, if they even slept, prepared for this sort of confrontation.
"Traitors! TRAITORS!" one shouted.
"ALERT THE GOVERNOR!" another yowled.
"CHARGE! CHARGE!" commanded another.
One lunged out; He met the blade of one of the wild dogs's swords. Another of the Lusitanians wielded a mace, which metallically plonked against the shield of a Valentian knight; he, in turn, met the end of a halberd. The fighting soon spilled out of the tent, and went to the ground in front of it. All around this tent, Valentines and their vigorous wide-eared canine allies were fighting Lusitanians, left and right. Afon saw it all, and cringed deeply, then looked to Cameron.
"By God!" he exclaimed, raising his eyebrows as he saw this surprising sight: Cameron was apparently deft with the bow he picked up. He wore a quiver, strapped around his shoulder, which was plentiful with arrows. He drew one, aimed for a Lusitanian, and let loose, with perfect form, rinsing and repeating.
Afon suddenly felt a searing pain, a blade brushing and swiping through his fur and skin. It wasn't at all deep, and he quickly countered the pike-wielding equine with a deft smashing of his shield. Then, he continued. As much as this corgi hated war and killing, he was especially skillful at both of these, and, as described before, used them only to assure they wouldn't be used again. He shoved his halberd's heavy point into the lower chest of a dog. A collie. He had to squint and make sure it wasn't his youthful ally, which, of course, it wasn't. Just a Lusitanian soldier who just happened to share the breed. It was with this quick confirmation that the corgi resumed.
There was a reason that Felix called upon the Cambrian's assistance; Afon was renowned for how effectively and quickly he could face an enemy. With the discipline of the halberd he learned from his equally renowned father, he then trained to surpass his elder's skills, raising in rank faster than anyone before. Hypocritical, perhaps, but he tried to use this for the situations he saw best.
One critical disadvantage the Lusitanian guards had was that, though they slept with their weapons, they certainly didn't do the same with armor. Though the dogs they immorally claimed to own suffered from this same disadvantage, the Valentian knights did not. Another disadvantage: there were twice as many Valentians and Maruetanians than there were of the ambitious colonial defenders.
By these measures, though it was still hard-fought, the battle eventually leaned in Valentia's favor. It wore on, and some on the wild canine's side retreated injured, though it compared not to the dead of the men of Lusitania. Afon almost felt piteous, cornering the final stubborn couple of Lusitanians. Seeing they were outnumbered, the they raised their hands in surrender. The bear of the two, however, then made a sudden, claw-bearing lunge at the most vulnerable target: Cameron. The sentiment was thankfully then returned with a quick arrow through the lung of so great a beastly man.
"Where in Christ's name did you learn that, collie?" the Cambrian corgi asked, the sun's subtle colors starting to paint themselves over the northeastern horizon.
"Hunting," Cameron replied, putting another arrow into the squirming berzerker. Although he did it without hesitation, it seemed to be of mercy. His face was almost as pale as the dying ursine's.
The youthful dog looked traumatized, and Afon saw this, now feeling a pang of guilt, but also sensing a good reason for explanation. "Even in victory is this a sight to make a god weep. Now do you see why I try to work against war," the corgi stated, with Cameron simply slowly nodding in response.