The banners of Rattay fluttered proudly in the midday breeze, the golden stag emblazoned on crimson fabric gleaming under the sun. Towering stone walls framed the bustling city, its streets alive with the calls of merchants and the distant clang of blacksmiths.
But the air felt heavier today. The arrival of the Silver Company had not gone unnoticed. As Dikun Silver and his retinue passed through the gates, wary eyes followed. Some with curiosity. Others with suspicion.
"A knight of no noble blood. A sellsword who commands loyalty as a king would."
Whispers like these were no longer rare. Dikun had heard them before. With every victory the Silver Company claimed, their reputation spread. Lords and merchants alike now watched him — some with admiration, others with fear.
Yet none of that mattered now. Dikun was summoned by Lord Berrick himself, the man who had bestowed upon him the title of knight and the lands of Brynstead. Whatever awaited him within the court, Dikun would face it as he always had — with unwavering resolve.
---
A Noble's Court
The throne room of Rattay was as grand as the city itself. Marble pillars lined the hall, and intricate banners bearing the sigil of House Berrick draped from the ceiling. The noble lords and ladies who filled the chamber wore silks and furs, their gazes sharp and unreadable.
Upon the high dais sat Lord Berrick, a man of middle years, his greying beard neatly trimmed. His eyes, cold and calculating, flickered with curiosity as Dikun approached.
"Sir Dikun Silver," Lord Berrick's voice rang out, smooth but firm. "You stand before us not as a mercenary, but as a knight of the realm. Yet, rumors abound — of your deeds, your victories, and the name your company now bears."
"The Silver Company serves the people, my lord," Dikun replied, bowing respectfully. "We are not bound by coin alone. We stand against those who would prey upon the innocent."
A murmur spread through the gathered nobles. Some nodded in approval, while others scowled, their skepticism clear.
"And yet," Lord Berrick continued, his tone sharpening, "your methods resemble those of a warlord. You judge bandits and spare those you deem redeemable. Justice is the right of the crown, not of a knight with no lineage."
Dikun met the lord's gaze without flinching. "A man who rules without understanding the burdens of the common folk is no ruler at all. I do not claim the right of the crown, only the duty of protecting those who cannot protect themselves."
Silence followed. It was a dangerous statement, one that could easily be twisted. But Dikun's words were not reckless. They were deliberate.
---
A Familiar Rival
From the shadows of the court, a familiar figure stepped forward. Sir Alric Valen, a noble knight clad in gleaming plate armor, regarded Dikun with thinly veiled disdain. His family name carried weight in the court — and his hatred for Dikun was no secret.
"Protecting the common folk, you say," Alric sneered. "Yet your company swells with soldiers, and your influence grows with each passing day. How long before you no longer answer to the lords who knighted you?"
Dikun's jaw clenched. "The Silver Company serves as long as the people require it. We do not crave power. We crave purpose."
Alric stepped closer, his voice low but biting. "And when the people see you as more than a knight? When they whisper your name as a king-in-the-making? Will your purpose still remain so pure?"
"I swore an oath to serve this realm," Dikun replied firmly. "And I will uphold it."
Lord Berrick's expression remained unreadable. He had let the exchange continue, gauging Dikun's every word. But before Alric could press further, the lord raised his hand.
"Enough," Berrick commanded. "Sir Dikun Silver, your deeds in Brynstead have indeed brought safety to the people. And though questions remain, I will not cast judgment hastily."
A subtle tension lifted from the chamber. Dikun bowed once more, though the weight on his shoulders remained.
"You will return to Brynstead," Lord Berrick continued. "Rebuild. Govern. And ensure the safety of your lands. But mark my words — the eyes of this court will remain upon you."
---
A Silent Victory
The court adjourned soon after, and the Silver Company prepared to depart. As Dikun passed through the halls, Elira fell in step beside him. Her expression was cautious, but her eyes gleamed with admiration.
"You spoke well," she said. "Though I doubt Sir Alric will forget the words you exchanged."
"Let him brood," Dikun replied. "His disdain means little. It's Lord Berrick's favor that keeps Brynstead secure."
"And if that favor shifts?"
Dikun's gaze hardened. "Then we'll stand as we always have — together."
But even as they rode from Rattay's gates, the weight of uncertainty remained. The Silver Company had won many battles. Yet the battles of the court, fought with whispers and alliances, were a far more dangerous game.
And Dikun Silver had no intention of losing.
---
Next Chapter: The Seeds of Power
Dikun returns to Brynstead and begins rebuilding efforts.
Political tension rises as nobles question his growing influence.
Gareth steps into a greater role within the Silver Company, earning further recognition.
A shadow from Dikun's past resurfaces, threatening everything he has built.