Which attendants were friendly, and which ones hated each other's guts, what events they arranged together and in which were some siblings marginalized.
All of these were subtle ways in which nobles fought. In fact, the entire Albrecht household was set up in a way that was a microcosm of the noble courts.
The attendants were responsible for drawing the war camps. They were the hands and feet of their masters after all.
It was uncouth for nobles to say harsh words about their sibling, but an attendant? Well that was fair game. And if you wanted to retaliate, how exactly would you go about that?
Don't shoot the messenger rules applied. An attack on an attendant was practically a declaration of war.
And so the practice of using attendants as proxies came about. Mira nodded gracefully, and alighted from the carriage like a flower in bloom. The moment she stepped out the hubbub in the outside regions lulled for a couple seconds, but then started again, but much quieter.
From his small viewpoint Irik could tell that the soldier's backs were a bit straighter and their steps a bit faster. They kept stealing glances at his attendant.
He sighed. Mira had, for some reason, quickly grown on him. After all, like all men, he had a weakness for beauty. But the more he got reminded just how much she stood out -especially after she gained a sort of glow after they woke up- the more he had a bad feeling.
He sighed again.' Welp, that's for future Rick to deal with'. Present Rick had other problems too deal with. Like whether or not to kill that captain that was staring a hole through Mira.
'How would that man die? The pear of anguish? The Judas Cradle? No that's too much. He wasn't an uber driver for someone who brought store bought cookies to the cookout.'
As Irik immersed himself in fantasies and the memories of TikTok trends, feeling just a tad bit homesick, a servant had approached Mira and whispered in her ear. This was one of Mira's direct subordinates in the Irik Faction of the Albrechts.
She was the head maidservant of Irik, and therefore somewhat of a high-ranking servant in the kingdom. Her parents were knights, so she had some blue blood no matter how thin.
She nodded after the servant had delivered whatever they had to deliver. Irik was too far to hear, and craning his head out of the window was far too undignified for a noble.
So he stewed in his curiosity. Mira turned around, bowed to the carriage, and walked to the front. The head servant followed. So did the captain who did not know his place.
That guy rankled Irik's spine. But he was a new transfer from the kingdom and Irik didn't have much power over those royal guys.
Irik was left bored in his carriage, as the high ranked subordinates were summoned to the head of the convoy.
His carriage was at the end as was custom. The Baron at the head, the heir at the end. The other scions were interspersed between the carriages of the convoy.
The convoy was large, consisting of at least two hundred carriages, carrying supplies, troops, servants, gifts and personnel.
Only the Baron got to ride with company. After all what was the point of having two wives if you don't get to spend some quality time with them?
The reason that they didn't travel clumped together was more practical than not. After all, in the event of an attack, which happened more frequently in the case of nobles than one would guess, all the eggs weren't in one basket and the family had a chance to survive.
In fact, one of the siblings was probably left back at the Citadel to hold the line, and to assume the position of the Baron if the family was lost. Although, unbeknownst to Irik, the entire family had gone on this trip because the King had ordered it.
He mulled over these issues of Logistics as he waited for Mira to return. Twenty minutes after all the high ranking officials had walked to the front, he suddenly got snapped out of his daze by a strange feeling.
His breathing quickened, his vision got a little bit sharper as his heart thundered in his chest. Something was wrong. But he couldn't put his finger on what.
He opened his carriage door and looked out. They were at the bottom of the cliff, to their left was the 50-metre tall cliff face, strong, sturdy and made of dark obsidian-like stone.
To their right was the road, and ten meters after the road started the dark forest.
It was the forest that gave Rick the strange feeling. The hairs on the back of his head stood straight. He knew this feeling. It was the feeling of being watched. There was something in the woods.
He called over a soldier with a wave of his hand. He wanted to tell him to raise the convoy into a state of alert. If he shouted he might alert whoever the attackers were.
But he was too late. Before the soldier could fully turn to him an arrow embedded itself into his neck. Rick immediately he heard the twang of string, and then more twangs and thuds.
He immediately closed the door when he saw the arrow. He was lucky because 4 arrows embedded themselves into the wood of the carriage and 2 bounced off the glass.
Rick looked outside with bloodshot eyes, He had barely survived that. The archer trained on the guard had probably been spooked and fired prematurely before his assassin had the chance to train their weapons on him. He was alive because someone screwed up.
In short distances arrows moved faster than sound. Well it was slower than the sound, but the human mind couldn't react to that anyway. Normal reaction time was 0.2 seconds, but by then the arrow at 50m/s would already have torn through the target. Even with training, Rick was still baseline human. Maybe his father could do better but he wasn't the Baron. Yet.
The rain of arrows stopped thudding against his carriage and he heard the scream of a charge. He flung open the door and rushed out to join the melee. The close call with death hadn't cowed him, instead it made him more eager to taste blood.
.