I stood, paced—two steps there, two back. Nervous gait like a beast in a cage.
— Forget sympathy. Ride to Taln. Leave a reliable man here and go to the main camp.
— Good, —without hesitation.
Again one word, but in it was readiness to execute, the obedience of a professional knowing that in war's chaos, someone must keep cool.
The pavilion sank into silence—heavy, dense, almost tangible. How many times I've wondered: why not a single extra word?
I left swiftly—like fleeing my own irritation. The flap slammed with the sound fabric makes when slapped in anger.
How he infuriates me, —I thought, walking away. — Why zero words?
Why does another's silence irritate so? Maybe because it forces you to hear your own thoughts, not always pleasant? Or because in silence we see reproach to our chatter?
Perhaps in this mute grandeur lies true strength. The kind that exposes the vice of our loquacity. For power lies not in loud speeches but in quiet breathing capable of turning history's course.
But there was something else in the Iron Captain—something I noticed but didn't want to admit. The only thing betraying Kane de Rockhart's true feelings—a fleeting grief in his eyes. Grief not for the king—kings die, that's their duty. Grief for the country, for the people, for the fragile thing called peace.
No wonder they called him the Iron Captain. Iron doesn't speak, iron is silent. Endures. Takes the blow and doesn't complain. And if it cries—with rust, quietly and unnoticed. In this silence, like the gleam of steel, fate reflected—where every word is but a weak glint of what's truly important, and silence louder than any speech.
Maybe silence is wisdom too? In a world where all shout, silence sounds louder than words. When words are thrown like stones, silence becomes more precious than gold.
The Iron Captain remained alone, bent over maps. And the maps were silent with him—about what tomorrow holds, where the drawn roads lead. Silent because real roads are paved not on paper but in the heart. And the Iron Captain's heart paved its own road—long, hard, leading through the kingdom's ruins to an unknown tomorrow.