Whispers and murmurs rippled across the battlements like a contagion, faster than rot on bread, faster than fire through dry grass.
It started as a hush, a few uncertain glances traded between helmeted heads, but quickly grew louder, more fevered, like the gathering buzz of wasps disturbed in their hive.
The messenger had ridden away, but his words clung to the stones of the wall, to the ears of every man who had heard them.
Words like daggers, soft in tone but sharp in effect. They echoed not just in the air, but in the pit of every soldier's stomach.
"Do you think… he was telling the truth?" a young guardsman, barely more than a boy, his hand still trembling against the grip of his spear, asked. His voice cracked as he spoke, uncertain whether from youth or fear. "Has the prince truly abandoned us?"
