Near sundown, the men of the City's Watch began to march to the castle of the Evergreen as the city fell asleep, with shops closing down and children called inside by their mothers. From the Spire's balcony, Ser Hywel was with King Gabriel.
"How many do you reckon, Ser?"
"A thousand. Maybe five hundred more," the knight replied. "The damn commander would only give us half."
"No. He gave us the whole of the evening army." The king's eyes were squinted as he thought hard. "Half for the day and half for the night. We hold the other, and we shall use them."
Ser Hywel knew that even the whole army was half of what they were worth. "Ser Doros has spat on the Watch," he began. "I would be lying to you, your grace, if I were to say he did all he could. I have as much respect for him as I do a privy. And for each two men here, they are worth one knight."
"You're a good enough commander."
"But not for this, your grace."
The king laid his hand upon the old knight's sword Ember, still sheathed with only its handle and pommel sticking out. "You told me you slew plenty with your blade. During your time at the Eastfort, I'm sure you showed enough talent killing off the Maple men."
That is true, Ser Hywel thought. But those men did not spit fire. He wiped his brow with the green cloak he wore above his armor. "The army will arrive soon, your grace. The ten lieutenants will arrive sooner than them. What will we say when they arrive?"
"A plan." The proud king smiled. "I wish to share it, so that you may critique my work."
The knight's eyes reflected curiosity. "Please, your grace, continue."
King Gabriel pointed to the far away city. "When the first hundred marches through those gates, they will hold the district of the Entry. Nobody will leave, and only the army will enter. Next, three hundreds will march to the Second District east and two hundreds to the west. The four will take on the Backrow."
Ser Hywel tapped his fingers along the white stone railing. This is a plan for the brawls of men, he thought. But our enemy is neither man or beast… surely, he is something else.
"What do you think, Ser?"
"Decent enough, your grace," the knight replied. "But we are to face an enemy that burned six good men. How would you have us face the sorcerer in the city?"
"Dragon fire." The king's eyes were bare and stared off to the setting sun. "If he chooses to burn us, then we shall burn him, too. My brother did not know, and neither did the men with him. But we know, and we know well enough."
At that point, the knight began to think his king had gone insane. "Dragon fire, your grace?"
"Aye. A good lad of the White Dragon has gone off his way to fight for us. An honorable boy, no doubt. Powerful enough, and a Fledgling himself, I hear."
Ser Hywel's discomfort grew as he took his eyes away from the king. "Dragon faiths of the White are no longer at war," he explained. "That ended years ago… I am certain that this boy is simply green, your grace. Are you sure he is from the White's wing?"
"You doubt me?" the king asked. "The boy fights for our cause. He will make sure our prey is burned and never to return."
The knight could not argue.
By then, ten armored men riding ten strong stallions rode into the first wall's gate. After that, the second. Here they are, Ser Hywel thought. These were distinctly warriors of the Greenholds, wearing green and white steel, with a rose decoration on their helms.
"This will be your first crusade against the foul men."
"And of the hunt I shall carry on my own, your grace?"
"You have a thousand men to choose from," Gabriel told him. "You shall see how each man fights when you massacre those foul criminals. And you will pick well, Ser. I know your judgement is good. Take a rest until noon tomorrow after the fight. Then, take your retinue of thirty and yourself and ride if the flaming boy is not found."
He merely nodded. He prayed a solemn prayer silently to the White to protect him, hoping that the boy was truly the dragon's own.
"Go. You may escort them here, Ser."
"Yes, your grace." At once, the knight left.
It would take only moments for the ten armored knights to climb the tower and speak with them inside the chamber of the Council. The army still had a way to go, each squadron led by their own captain. The ones that led them, however, had already arrived.
"My lords," King Gabriel began. "I trust the conditions of our army are well and good."
Five knights sat on his right and another five on his left, plus the nearest one to sit—the Master of Guard. "Well and good, your grace. A thousand good men to serve you." He was Ser Aldo of the North Shores.
"Simple men," Ser Hywel snapped back. "Your grace has asked if the Watch is still capable. I am nonetheless surprised you do not know."
"Hah! All of us know." In front of the young sword was an old man of sixty that wore a silver pin upon his beard of silver, too. Ser Berich Norton. "No man in the Watch has ever set their eyes on that damn Ser Doros with admiration. Only whispers are thrown at him."
With that, the king cleared his throat. "We should discuss our plans now, my lords. I trust that you know our purpose here."
"To slay the boy that sets men aflame." Thus was the soft voice of the menacing Ser Dennis, whose own eyes were blank and lips thin, with the lords leaning closer to hear his voice. "Or perhaps for a greater reason?"
"To rid this city of criminals, Ser. We will do what your commander has failed to accomplish."
The knight smiled, his eyes unchanging. "Oh, but how the common folk will rage. I tell you, your grace, that wives will grieve, fathers will die, sons and daughters will be orphaned. I am a fool if I were to say there is no consequence."
"Then kill them as well, I say," replied Ser Aldo. "We are the City's Watch, and we swore to keep the city's peace. Do you not remember?"
Ser Hywel kept his tongue at bay. The young lad has courage of his own… and wits, that is for sure, the old knight thought. But Ser Dennis… how will they answer?
"They should understand it," Ser Norton told them. "We will make them see that the wives have wed barbarians, that the fathers are savages, that their sons are thieves and that their pretty daughters are whores of cheap brothels. We will make them see…"
"Enough." Ser Hywel snapped at them. "We will discuss the plans of battle, none further."
The rest of them settled, with Ser Aldo laying back on his chair, Ser Norton claiming silence, and Ser Dennis giving nothing but a stare. It took only a moment for the king to explain his plans, of taking the Entry, the Second and Third Districts, and with them, the Backrow.
The knight of the North Shores was the only one to dare ask a question. "Your grace, if I may ask. I wish that you would put me to lead the charge against the Backrow."
The king's eyes widened. "You would, Ser Aldo?"
"Aye."
Ser Hywel thought him mad. Only a fool would volunteer to take the vanguard for the fight in those slums… perhaps the knight will face the sorcerer and survive. He imagined them, dueling with steel as the young lad was set ablaze.
"It would be disrespectful to leave a fellow watcher be." The silent knight on Gabriel's right stared into the young boy's soul. "I will join in your effort, my lord. I hope he has prayed to whatever dragon or serpent he worships."
That calmed the young lad, who he himself had been filled with nervousness. "Thank you, Ser."
By that time, the army had arrived near the gates. The bells told them so. The sound of boots in synchronized rhythm echoed through the halls, and rows of seven armored men, each lined up as a long line, made their way through the Evergreen's two high walls.
There they met at the courtyard of the castle, just for a thousand men and another twelve to stand in front of the army.
"This will be the force that seals our legacy," Ser Berich remarked.
"Aye, that's true." The young knight kept his hands steady, putting on his helm and resting the right on the handle of his sheathed blade. "A legacy to be proud of, I hope."
Ser Hywel searched for a young lad, the dragon faith that the king had noted was to come. Has the green boy gone cold? He did not expect much from him anyway.
The silent knight crept his way beside him, nearly startling him with his own soft voice. "You looked troubled… who do you search, Ser?"
"A young lad, in a cloak of white, perhaps."
Ser Dennis nodded slowly. "A dragon faith… can this be the boy the king has promised?"
"Yes, though I think he will not arrive."
"You would doubt the Fledgling?"
The knight searched for the right words. He did not want to sound blasphemous, but he also did not wish to give praise to the boy either. He did not trust him. "I doubt his arrival, Ser. We all know they do not wage war. They have stopped that years ago."
Behind them both, the king tapped his shoulder. "I told you not to doubt me, old friend. That lad was brought to me by Lord Tygan himself, whom the boy had visited in advance. He is a master at whispers. He will not fail me."
The old knight laughed. "Apologies, your grace, but where is he?"
"You might want to look up, Ser," the king replied. "Those of any dragon's wing will not approach you from the ground."
As Gabriel spoke those very words, a flaming ball fell from the sky faster than a man could move away. The courtyard was lit as if it were morning. When it seemed, it would crush the men below… It did not land, but instead grew flaming wings of large size as it hovered over the army, who had raised their steel against it.
Could this still be a Fledge? No… he did not think so. It seemed the lad was already a master that tutored at his age.
"Lower your blades!" Gabriel commanded. "The boy is our ally, not our foe. He has given us his word to aid in our battle tonight against thieves, murderers, and the boy who sets men aflame. Sheath your blades!"
They slowly did as they were told, hesitant at the least. They are not fools. They will not risk their fate to be like that of their six brothers.
Behind them, Ser Aldo and Ser Norton's eyes were filled with raw fear and awe. The seven other lieutenants did the same. The only one that differed was Ser Dennis, who smiled. "Would you still doubt, my lord?"
The old knight did not answer.
With flaming eyes, the boy lowered himself and landed in front of them all. The lad's teeth were sharpened like a beast's, his skin was darker, and his hair was curled but short. A foreign child, Ser Hywel thought. How much more can I distrust him?
"Your grace," he greeted while kneeling. "I am at your service."
From the eleven knights that were with the king, it seemed that they were split. Some favored the boy while others did not trust the dragon faith. Ser Norton himself glared at the boy with doubt. Ser Aldo, however, seemed interested in what the lad had to offer.
As for Ser Dennis, the look of doubt and curiosity were all the same.
"Rise," the king ordered him. "You have done me a great favor, boy. I thank you dearly. Tell me, what is your name?"
"I am Lucius, your grace." He bowed from his neck.
The name was wrong in Ser Hywel's mind. "A name of a common man here… Yet you are not from this continent. Your skin, eyes, and hair show it."
"Indeed, my lord. I have sailed from the west and landed at the Light Bay. There, I learned the ways of the White Dragon and fought in the war. If you need my birth name, that is fine. I was named Lucifer, if you must know."
"Then I thank you, Lucius." The king smiled subtly. "Now, the moon has risen and it is time to march."
The rest of the knights turned and waited for command.
With a simple nod, a soldier from each ten men raised their banners. Another was raised beside those per hundred men, now with the same color as the previous ones—green—but chased with gold.
Marigolds upon a green field, Ser Hywel thought.
The king's banners themselves were purely white and gold. Each of their own had the heraldry of the Watch—Per pale Vert and Argent, two swords in saltire behind a tower, all counterchanged.
Squadron by squadron and hundred by hundred, the army left the keep to march towards the city. Through the inner and outer gates, they went. And in front, was the Master of Guard along with the king and five others, all of them on horseback.
The knight stared off towards the distance. "He is a powerful boy, your grace. I see that clearly now."
"Thank the gods for it." The king smiled as they rode. "If he is not, then our battle will bear not the half of the fruit. My brother will die in vain… no, he already has. He died not knowing that I would fight for him. He was still my brother… my blood… my kin."
The old knight tilted his head. "I am nearly as old as your father, your grace. I've served him well, as you know."
"Of course, I kept you as Master of Guard even after he died."
"Then, you will know that I am one of the few that hold knowledge of your brother's betrayal."
Gabriel's smile faded. Slowly, they inched closer and closer to the front, quite far from the rest. "That I know. Of his betrayal? That as well. The scar on my cheek…" He paused, his hand feeling the rough healed skin. "His strike has only given me strength. My wife is happily inside the castle."
"And I'm sure Lady Laria has not forgotten hers."
The king's expression became stale, much like that of the silent knight. "I know she has not. My boy is the only child we will ever have. She will not have another man bed her… not even me."
The knight could feel that the king had begun to collapse under his own emotions. "But Prince Leon is a good boy, your grace. Though your only son, he is surely the best one you could ever have. I have seen him in the council. I have trained him in the blade. I know."
Gabriel gave a bitter smile. "Then I must keep him safe."
"And as will I, your grace. I tell you with honesty that I wish the boy will have a crown." He turned his head towards the muddied road. "But why love your brother and avenge him… when he has done you horrible things and ruined the life of your wife?"
Simply, the king answered, "Because he is my brother, and I am a king. It is true that you are nearly as old as my father and have witnessed my brother's fall… but I have witnessed more."
"He betrayed you."
"Yes, he has."
The knight turned his gaze towards his king. "Then you must hate him, as your wife does. Do we not, as men, have the duty to protect women? Lord Mycael has broken his oath… and with that, his life followed."
Gabriel twisted his ring again. "I have given him forgiveness, Ser. I believe that he has paid well enough. He has lost a throne, a title, a father, a family… not a brother. But to honor my wife, I shall not forget. I will raise my son unlike any other. I will raise this city to one that my father will be proud of. I shall see to it that my son will not do as he did. I will be their Watcher."