"Damn it... what now?" Dexton spoke, squinting at what was happening in the distance. Though hindered by the trees, they could still see figures running and fighting.
Sir Cordell leaned forward as if trying to get a better view, his helm hiding his expression. Meanwhile, Adrian looked around for more approaching foes. The shaking of the walls from each ram below had slowed, and he wasn't sure if that was a good sign.
"Are you still able to fight?" The knight suddenly turned toward him, his eyes fixed on Adrian's bloodied cheek.
"Uh, yes?" Adrian was taken aback. He wiped some blood off his face, forgetting that his hand was drenched in it, too.
The knight nodded. "You two, get down below. Take a few of our men with you and go find the Lord."
"Really?" Adrian asked, again wiping at his face with his blood-stained hand.
"The rest of us will stay here and take the castle. Turning back now would make all this for naught."
Adrian shared a look with Dexton, who nodded. Adrian let out a breath and stretched his body for a moment. Sir Cordell gave him one final look and a nod before returning to the task of seizing the walls.
Dexton seemed to be searching for something. Just as strength began to seep out of Adrian from exhaustion, pain, and a mounting headache, Dexton appeared with a rope.
"Come on, we'll use this to get down."
Adrian grunted and followed, willing his mind to keep his strength from failing.
The fight wasn't over yet.
They descended quickly to a less crowded area. After searching for friendly soldiers, they found Dudley and another village hunter. Together, they ran in the direction where the lords had fled.
The distance wasn't far. They soon heard screams of pain and the sounds of a scuffle. Adrian's attention was pulled to the side, the path ran near the sand and the ocean, with thin trees barely blocking the view. In the distance, he saw a longship.
A bad feeling rose inside him just as he heard a familiar cry.
"There!" Adrian led the way as they burst onto the sand. He saw what's happening, enemies were dragging a man in fine, familiar armor toward the longship while battles raged around them.
He heard a cry of pain and someone shouting, "Lord Cenroy!"
He couldn't see Lord Harrow, but they couldn't ignore the struggle, especially since the enemy seemed intent on capturing Lord Cenroy.
"Come on!" Adrian charged, Dexton at his side, while the two hunters stayed back and started loosing arrows.
The enemy was numerous, at least four dozen, not including those on the ship, but the lords' guards were fighting back. With a swing of his sword, Adrian's struggle began.
He lost himself in the fight. Perhaps because he had already survived the chaos of the walls, he felt more confident now, despite being out of breath.
Halfway through the skirmish, reinforcements arrived, part of Lord Cenroy's forces had arrived.
But the enemy was quick and decisive; they had come for one purpose only..
To capture the lords and bring them to the ship. Adrian spied Lord Sean already on the vessel, tied up, and Lord Cenroy was being hauled in next and they could only watch helplessly, blocked by a surge of enemy bodies.
He couldn't see Lord Harrow or Lord Hardinge anywhere, they had either escaped or were dead.
Soon the fight was pushed to the edge of the sand, red water drenching their boots. Adrian hurled his shield at an enemy, taking him by surprise, before stabbing upward with his sword. The tip buried itself in the foe's eye. As he pulled the blade out, the man collapsed into the water.
"No!"
"Stop them!"
"Hahaha!"
Adrian panted, watching the longship slowly sail away into open water. An arrow struck his chest plate, the armor saved his life, but the force made his knees buckle, and he fell into the side.
The ship was leaving. They were too late.
"Hey! Where's Lord Harrow?!" he heard someone shout.
It was Dexton, his voice hoarse. Adrian turned and saw Dexton holding a soldier by the shoulders, interrogating him.
"I... we... I don't know," the soldier stammered. "We lost them in the conflict. They must have escaped, we didn't see them captured."
Dexton cursed and let the soldier go. Having no strength left, the man fell into the shallow water, barely keeping his head up to breathe.
"What now?" Dexton approached slowly. Adrian noticed a wound on Dexton's left leg.
"Shit." Adrian cursed. How was he supposed to know? He was beyond exhausted. He felt that if he blinked for too long, he would slip immediately into the reprieve of sleep. He tried to stand, but his knees were shaking and weak.
It was then that an elated roar echoed from the direction of the castle. He exchanged a look with Dexton. That could only mean one thing..
The castle was finally taken.
------------------------------------------------
Adrian opened his eyes with a groan, confused for a moment about where he was. The flicker of a candle was the only light in the room. It took a moment to realize he was in a room within the Baron of Sawhead's castle.
He sat up, his bare feet hitting the wooden floor. His entire body ached, bruised and battered, but he had no deep wounds. He made sure of that with his gift. His throat was dry and his mouth parched. He grabbed a waterskin from the bedside and drained it.
He stood up gingerly, groaning. He could have used his abilities to mend his body completely now that his mind had rested, but he didn't want to appear as if he hadn't suffered in the battle. It was impossible for a normal man to emerge unscathed.
He walked to the window and peered out. Campfires were scattered about as the soldiers settled in. Most were Lord Cenroy's men, now being led by the Viscount's knights in their lord's absence.
Lord Hardinge had retreated to Whitesand Town after escaping. Lord Harrow, despite a side injury, had also returned and was currently the only lord in the castle.
Lord Sean, the heir of Whitesand, and Lord Cenroy had been taken. Furthermore, word had spread that the daughter of the Baron of Sawhead. the last remaining descendant, is alive and also in the hands of the enemy. The islanders now had three noble captives.
They had taken the castle and forced the enemy out, but the enemy had taken the lords with them.
It wasn't a true victory.
Adrian could only imagine how the remaining lords and the Prince would respond, but he hoped he wouldn't be part of it. He wanted to go back to his village and be a simple woodworker again. It had only been a few days, but he already missed his small house.
Looking down, he saw a campfire surrounded by soldiers from his village. He left the room and slowly made his way to the yard.
"Hey." Adrian called out to the familiar people. It was Dudley, Devon, Dexton, and another man from home.
"Look who returned to the living." Dexton, just as bruised as Adrian and leaning on a cane, smirked.
"Har har." Adrian rolled his eyes but smiled as he sat on a log. "How are you guys doing?"
"Well enough. As archers, we kept our distance." Dudley said with a grin.
"I am seriously going to learn the way of the bow after this." Adrian said solemnly, earning a laugh from the group.
"How's your leg?" He asked Dexton.
Dexton patted his thigh. "I have to use the cane for a bit, but the barber says I'm fine, so long as I don't reopen the wound."
Adrian nodded. They exchanged stories, and Adrian learned what had happened after he had passed out. Of Lord Harrow's men, twenty-nine out of about fifty had survived. It was more than he expected, though half were too injured to fight, and some were still hanging by a thread.
By tomorrow, the number would probably lower a bit.
The reality of war, there are truly no victors.
And this wasn't a full blown war too, just repelling invaders.
A servant approached then, telling Adrian that Lord Harrow requested his presence. Adrian followed him to a room set for a private dinner.
Lord Gareth Harrow sat at the head of the table, looking pale but stable. To his side stood Sir Cordell, still standing straight as if he hadn't been through a carnage hours earlier.
"Milord." Adrian bowed deeply.
"Cordell tells me you performed incredibly well during your first fight." the Lord said.
Adrian raised his head slightly. "I only did my best, milord."
"Hm." The Lord nodded. "Many of the soldiers from our village are injured and will take a long time to heal. I would like you to lead these people and.. the bodies of those who died transported safely to the village."
Adrian tried his best to control his expression, but inwardly, he was elated. Though the mention of dead bodies made him grim.
"I will do as told, milord."
"Good..." the Lord said. He hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Go back to the village and rest. And tell the steward to teach you more of lordly matters."
Adrian raised an eyebrow, his confusion mounting. He opened his mouth to say something, but the Lord waved his hand dismissively.
"You are dismissed."
Adrian bowed and glanced at Sir Cordell for a moment, but the knight's expression remained unreadable. Adrian turned and left the room.
As the doors closed behind him, he released a long breath. He couldn't fathom why the Lord wanted him to learn of "lordly matters" when he was simply returning home.
Deep down, he didn't have the energy to dwell on it. With a faint headache still throbbing behind his eyes, he retreated to his room and fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning, Adrian felt much better. He immediately gathered the injured soldiers from their unit and organized the necessary supplies, including two carts and donkeys to carry those too wounded to walk and the dead bodies wrapped.
Dexton took the lead, controlling the donkey, while Adrian scanned the group. There were more than fifteen of them. Because of their condition, the journey would be slow, but it was certainly better than plunging back into a horde of enemies.
Adrian glance at the castle and away before he took a deep breath and spoke.
"Let's go."