Galvin couldn’t believe a month already passed. It seemed like yesterday when he was struggling to gather up the people to fight against the king. Now, all of Jovin City was his. The soldiers of Lord De’Shai expunged, the citizens of the city now wore the black cloaks and mask of Justicar, and fangs were being bore at the king.
In that time, the recruits of Darius and Melwin made their way to Stormwins Peak. They recruits about twenty people. Gave them some basic training which could help them. From there, Jules would train them. Thirty people was plenty for what he needed.
He also received a letter from Guenevir, which took a while to arrive to him, finding that Kaden and Guenevir made it back to Stormwins Peak safely. He’d been nervous about sending her on that mission, but she seemed to prove herself useful. He’d need to hear a report of her mission later on.
He sent a letter back to Kaden, instructing him to stay close to the walls of Rathalin, but not be seen. Surely, Guenevir and Kaden would be labeled enemies of the people as well, but that was fine.
About two weeks ago, he received a letter from Kaden again. Big bold words at the bottom, which read They’re coming. That was all the contents of the letter, and he knew what it would entail.
By normal horseback, it’d take someone five days to reach Jovin City from Rathalin. Back a couple months ago, it’d taken Galvin, Morwin, and the rest of the caravan a whole week. To mobilize an army of this size and magnitude, Galvin estimated it’d take two weeks at least. They’d need to stop and set up camp for the night, which would take long, or mobilize the troops into nearby towns for rest.
Galvin and the citizens had plenty of time.
Lord Seldam stood behind him, with hands clasped behind his back. Everything was going so smoothly. He didn’t even expect the lord of this town, who he’d threatened before to be on his side so easily.
“How big are the forces?” Lord Seldam asked.
“Big,” Galvin answered. “Three separate armies converging into one for us. Lord De’Shai was angered that we retook Jovin City and conspired with the other Ministers, who had their own separate, but smaller armies. Var, the Minister of Commerce, and Demarian, the Minister of Labor, are all coming here.”
“So that was your plan back then,” Lord Seldam said.
“Yes,” Galvin replied. “Make you give up the city so De’Shai could send some troops here, keep it a secret from Morwin to make him believe in himself, and then kick out the troops when the time came and provoke De’Shai. It worked more beautifully than I thought it would. I thought he’d send about half of his army way, but almost all of his troops are on their way here now.”
“You seem to have thought this through,” Lord Seldam observed. “Do you think it’s going to work?”
“Not us by ourselves,” Galvin said. “If I can just rally up the other villages, the people who dissent the king, then they’ll join the fight. Within the past month, letters have been exchanged to the lords of those towns and villages, and most of them are on our side. You have nothing to fear, Lord Seldam. The villages will take arm against the king.”
Lord Seldam nodded. “I would hope so,” he said.
“A pincer attack is the plan. They can only bring so many troops against the moat of this city, and when they’re here, the soldiers will be stranded. If we attack them from both the island city and from the mainland, they’ll have nowhere to go. Their army will be this much closer to falling, and a victory is almost guaranteed.”
“I don’t like that term,” Lord Seldam said. “Almost.”
“I’ve done my best to predict their strategy. Lord De’Shai can be brash sometimes, and he lets his anger lead him by the reigns. We’re using that to our advantage, and it’s worked better than I originally anticipated.”
“Excellent.” Lord Seldam paused for a moment. “I’m glad we’re fighting the king together. I didn’t agree with you in the beginning, but using my city as fodder was a genius plan of yours. We’re going to see this to the end, you and I. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll need to go see that my wife and children are out of this city before the soldiers arrive. Safe from the battlefield.”
Galvin nodded. “Yes, go. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to them. Things are only going to get bloody from here on out.”
Lord Seldam turned to leave.
“And Seldam,” Galvin called, turning to face the man. “Welcome to Justicar.”
Jules watched the line of men and women at the ready, their feet standing firm behind the imaginary line in the dirt. He watched as they notched their arrows into their bows, and at the signal, they would fire at their respective targets. Thirty of them in total that Jules was training. His job was to teach them how to properly wield a bow, and for what, he had no idea. Galvin and his crazy ideas. Why was he the one tasked with teaching them to shoot? There had to be many capable instructors down in Jovin City that could teach these folks how to handle a bow. Why they were required to venture all the way to Stormwins Peak to learn was beyond him.
He noticed Darius among one of the thirty and found it strange the man wanted to learn how to shoot a bow. He was good with a sword, true, but he’d be anything but a bowman. Any shot he fires misses by a mile.
Nevertheless, he didn’t openly question it. He just did as he was told. Jules gave the signal to the men and women, and they all fired at the same time. Arrows went flying everywhere, crashing into one another, some landing on the ground short of the target, and others flying way above it, missing the mark by a long shot.
Jules buried his face in his hands. It was hopeless.
“Okay, we’re going to run through that again,” he said. “Positions!” Everyone complied. Arrows were pulled out of quivers, hands and feet moved to take the firing position. This time, Jules walked down the line, approaching each one individually and fixing their stance. Whether it be adjusting their aim above or downwards, their footing, even where they were focused, he fixed them all. Or, he tried to.
Darius, for some reason or another, held the bow pointed straight up. Jules frowned at that. “Have some sense,” he whispered forcefully to the brute of the man.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “You know bowmanship isn’t my strong suit.”
“I expected better from a soldier like you,” came Jules’s reply as he helped the man adjust his position.
“Fire!” he gave the hand position. Once again, arrows went flying. It was certainly better than the first time, but he found a lot of the arrows still missed their marks. Completely. About five struck the target, and among the five, only two had hit the bulls’s eye.
Jules tracked down where the sharpshooters had come from and instructed those two specifically to take aim again. He pulled the arrows out of the targets and gave them the signal to fire.
The arrows missed completely. He sighed. It was just too good to be true. Lucky shots. They couldn’t rely on lucky shots when the time came.
For two weeks he had been training them to shoot, and for two weeks he was met with disappointment time and time again.
But they were getting better. The people he was training couldn’t even shoot when they first showed up. Now, they had a basic grasp of the bow.
“Positions!” he shouted at the new members.
“Sir?” one of the women said. “It’s been three hours. Most of us are hungry and tired. Can we please take a break?”
Jules sighed. He glanced up at the sky. The sun was steadily approaching below the horizon. He had lost track of time long ago.
“Fine,” he said. “You’re all free to go for the night.”
Frantic movement ensued, and within the minute, the training grounds had been cleared, except for the many missed arrows that lay sticking out of the ground and in the trees. He was the one that would have to clean that up.
A shadow moved across the ground. He looked up in the sky and saw a figure darting towards him.
Once it was directly over him, the figure changed directions and darted downwards, straight for him.
Galvin.
“Why did you send them to me?” was the first thing out of Jules’s mouth when the leader of Justicar landed. He didn’t even know Galvin was on the way. Last he checked, it took five days to travel from Stormwins Peak to Jovin City, but Galvin crossed the distance in less than a day. It’s those Gemming abilities of his. Jules knew what each gem did, but he never could understand the true powers of it.
Galvin placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Because you’re the only one that can handle it. You’re the best archer we have, so you’re the one that has to teach them.”
Jules shook the hand off his shoulder. “Best archer doesn’t mean best teacher.”
Galvin frowned. “What do you mean? How is their progress with the training?”
Jules pointed a finger at all the missed arrows strewn about throughout the day. Galvin took the sight in and pursed his lips. A simple “Oh” was all he could manage.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “They’re not good. You need to take them to Jovin City if you want them to train to be proper archers. I hear they’ve amassed a good military force there in the month you’ve been gone.”
“So the rumors have even reached the top of Stormwins Peak, huh?” Galvin said.
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Jules nodded.
“They’re coming,” Galvin said. “The king has finally decided to mobilize his troops. Kaden told me they’re marching across the country side as we speak. We have no time to send them all the way west to Jovin City. This is the best place we have to train them while remaining virtually invisible to the king’s eyes.”
“So it’s time, huh?”
Galvin nodded. “It will take a couple weeks for them to reach Jovin City, maybe more. We need to be ready within that time and to strike when the distraction is in place.”
“… Distraction?”
Jules stared at the leader. A fire burned in his eyes, the flame of passion was making its way to the surface. In it, he saw more determination than he’d ever seen from the man in a long time.
“Jovin City is a distraction,” Galvin said. “I’ve convinced them to take arms against the king and his rule. But the distraction won’t last long. We just need the week to attack Rathalin while the army is out.”
“You’re planning to take on Rathalin?!” Jules exclaimed. “Has the battle ten years ago taught you nothing? They’re fortified!”
“Yes, they had their army then. If the intel is correct, then the king has mobilized his troops, along with De’Shai, and King Rai’Shal has remained in his palace. He is ripe for the picking.”
“Then you’re not attacking Rathalin?” Jules asked.
“No, just the king himself,” Galvin answered. “A quick in and out.”
“And you’re planning to attack him with the archers I’m training,” Jules said.
“Well, that’s only a part of the plan. All you need to know is to keep having them work on their skills at the moment. I have other things to attend to. I just wanted to stop by here and check on their progress.”
“Wait-,” Jules called out, but he was already gone. Jules stared at all the arrows still laying all over the place. “We are so doomed.”
Verona sat and watched as soldiers marched out of the city. These soldiers have been preparing for the better part of a day. So many soldiers… Where were they all going?
Jules had told her to stay in this hotel while he was gone. To not do anything unless he came back and continued training her. But with these many soldiers marching out of the city, the opportunity made itself clear. Other soldiers from other cities had to be marching out into the countryside, right? She could use this moment and attack her enemy.
What was the city called again? Perote, a two day’s travel away from Rathalin. She could make the trip. With the spear in her hand, and maybe some gemstones she picked up along the way.
No, just the spear would do. She’d kill Lord Demarian in retribution for everything he’s done, the family he took from her, the childhood he stole, and the friends he’s killed. She’ll make him repay for it all.
Verona always wanted to learn horseback riding. Jules took a day out of teaching her the spear to show her just that. She wasn’t an expert by any means, but she had a concept of how to do it. Now, how to find a horse.
The stable outside of Rathalin.
She wearily left the inn she stayed in, watching as more soldiers abandoned the camp, and even more soldiers from within the city.
Maybe she could take a horse from one of these men. No, that would draw too much attention to herself.
She went to the stable and met with Raul, a man whom she met several times during the course of her training with Jules. He always lended them horses, which Jules paid for. Now, she was there all by herself.
“Come for a steed?” the man said. “Where’s the man that’s always with you?”
“Gone for now,” Verona said. “I need a horse. I’m going to have to get to Perote as soon as possible.”
Raul shook his head. “No can do,” the man spoke. “Jules told me explicitly to not let a kid like you take one of my horses and make off with it.”
Verona was afraid of something like this happening. So she waited. And waited. Waited for the night to drag on, when all the soldiers were mobilized and out of Rathalin.
Then she attacked, using the butt of her spear against Raul’s forehead, knocking him back and pushing him against the bale of hay. She felt bad doing this, attacking a man who was only obeying instructions. Moreover, she didn’t have any money to buy his horses even if he didn’t care about Jules’s desires;
The man plead with her to stop and cried out, but the soldiers had already started moving off somewhere. To where, she didn’t know or did she care. She was tired of sitting and waiting around. So she beat the man mercilessly with the skills Jules taught her, until he was bleeding and unconscious on the ground. He’d come to, and hopefully forgive her, but now she needed to seize this opportunity.
She approached the steed that she always took when Jules taught her how to ride. By this point, she knew how to handle it, and it responded to her touch with affection.
She wearily climbed on top, the spear in her right hand, and the horse’s reigns in her left, and set off into the night, moving towards the city of Lord Demarian.
“This is outrageous! You know it to be completely unfair!” Lord Seldam sat solemnly and listened as his wife complained up a storm. As always, he waited patiently until she was done saying what she needed to say. “This is my city too! I was born and raised here! Do you have any idea how hard it is to just leave when I know it’s going to be overrun soon? What right do you have to kick me out of my own city?!”
Off to the side, their two kids stood, watching their parents argue, one a boy and one a girl. Standing next to their two children was one of their servants, in his formal black and white attire, hands clasped behind his back. The lord had given that man explicit instruction to see to that his family was safe. Seldam paid the other three parties present no mind at the moment. His attention was currently focused on his raving wife.
“I married you because I thought you would have enough respect for me to know I am capable! I can’t just sit idly somewhere in the countryside while my husband is at war with the damn king himself! How do you think it feels to be out there, away from your home, spending every minute of every day wondering if your husband and the father of your children is safe! You have no right to force that burden on me!”
The children exchanged glances with one another, while the servant simply stared ahead with a blank expression. Lord Seldam appreciated that man’s ability to remain stoic.
Lord Seldam had immediately gone to the servant the moment Galvin showed up. His family was his first and foremost priority, and he would stop at nothing to make sure they were out of the city.
“You’ve seen me fight! I can be pretty handy with the dagger, and you know this! How dare you undermine me for your selfishness. You think just because you’re the man of the house, your every word is final, that all your commands should be obeyed without hesitation? Well I have a few words of my own for you, Seldam.”
He perked up when she used his actual name. She rarely ever did that. It was always either “honey” or “husband” or “my love”. Never just “Seldam”.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “It’s not that I don’t trust you or your capabilities. You’re the one being selfish here. I am thinking about our children. Do you not wish to see them safe as well?”
“I want to stay, Daddy,” one of the children said, the boy.
Lord Seldam turned to him. He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he spoke, softening his voice. “I can’t let you guys stay here. It’s just not safe.”
“Then you can come with us. Either you leave with us, or we stay here with you. No matter what, we are a family, and we’re going to stay together,” Clara spoke firmly.
“I… can’t,” Seldam answered. “My allegiance is with the people of this city, and I won’t watch as my people, our people, fight and die while I’m off somewhere safe.”
Clara nodded, a triumphant expression plain on her face, her arms folded. “Then you know how I feel.”
Lord Seldam scrunched his eyebrows. He did feel awful for forcing them out, and he knew how they felt. But the burden and responsibility of the fate of his city was his to bear alone.
“Then I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.”
He stood up. The servant moved as well. Lord Seldam turned his back on his family as his wife cried out, yelling curses. The door opened and more servants came bustling in.
His heart broke for what he had to do to see his family to safety. Thank Agnius his wife was the only one screaming in shock. He couldn’t live with himself is his children were detained the way she was.
In truth, she knew how capable Clara is. A woman, born and molded by poverty, her early years spent scrounging to get by, could turn you into something else. She’s a hardened fighter, as good as some of his best soldiers. But regardless how skilled soldiers are, most of them will die during war. Especially one on the scale they’ve been thinking.
“How could you do this to me! I am your wife! You bastard!” The sound of rattling chains rang through the air. He gave a side look at his family. His children, per his instructions, were not bound. He shot them both an apologetic look.
“Load them into the carriage, and have them out of here by sunset,” Lord Seldam said.
He listened to his wife’s cries and complaints all the while she was pulled out of the house. He faced the wall so his servants couldn’t see the tears he had rolling down his cheeks.
