Chapter 48:
Necessary Patricide
With Akaj guiding the way, it wasn’t long before the party returned to the South Gate of Corvidrop. Fulcher noticed there were no more adventurers manning the walls, their numbers having been replaced by Corvidrop soldiery. Benedict wore a flowing black gown as he sat atop a black horse, his face contorting in disgust as Fulcher rode up to the gate on the back of Ravage.
“My King!” he began, watching Ravage carefully. “What a lovely… turkey, you found in the South…”
Fulcher climbed off the saddle as the rest of the caravan caught up, moving beside Corvidrop and extending his hand up.
“Bit big for a turkey, isn’t it? How are you Benedict?” he asked. The lord reached down slowly, offering a quick and fleeting shake of Fulcher’s hand before pulling his arm back, eyeing the parasaurs.
“Things have progressed well. As you can see we have taken the gates from the adventurers. If your missive is to be believed, you completed your goals as well?” Corvidrop said.
“Yes, I did. We made it to the Librarum and obtained vital information that can help us,” Fulcher explained. As the others joined him, Corvidrop’s face contorted again at the sight of Akaj.
“I see you’ve also picked up some sort of… demihuman,” he said. Akaj grinned with a wide smile as he looked at the South Gate.
“Not quite a human, little lord. I must say, I always thought the famous gate of Corvidrop would be bigger,” Akaj said, mustering a chuckle. Before Corvidrop could respond Fulcher stepped between the two, clasping Akaj around the shoulders.
“Akaj here has been a vital guide and good friend! He will aid us in the mission,” Fulcher said, scrambling to shift the Flameweaver away from Benedict. “Now, we are in a bit of a rush. I assume your troops are ready?”
“Indeed. My Ravenguard are acting as commanders. Most of the soldiers are already camped outside the walls, ready to deploy within two hours of our call,” Corvidrop said. Schon strolled up then, looking the Lord over.
“And Stella? Can we see her?” she asked. Benedict cast a gaze down upon her that was unreadable, before reaching a sad expression.
“I’m afraid the young Princess has come down with severe chills. We have summoned a healer from elsewhere in the city who is set to arrive later today, but until then she has been quarantined away with one of my servants. Though, I did speak to her through her room door this morning,” Corvidrop said. “She said she misses you, and wishes you good luck. Of course, she isn’t privy to your true mission…” Schon frowned at something unsaid, but Fulcher continued the conversation with ease.
“Ah, well hopefully she feels better soon. We can always come back here to celebrate, and take her home,” he said assuringly.
“Yes,” Benedict said. “Now, let us move. The longer the army sits idle, the more opportunities the Sire has to build defences.”
—--
The Huntmaster pulled the reins of his horse, coming to a halt before a line of Imbuka’s soldiers. The General himself was leaning over a table in a command tent at the base of the Capitol’s town. As The Huntmaster got off his horse he marched towards the tent, shoving two of the soldiers in his way off to the side.
“Out of my way, dogs!” he said. The words drew The General’s attention, who stood and turned to face him.
“Huntmaster,” he said coldly. The man pointed a finger at The General, nearly touching his breastplate.
“What is the meaning of this, Imbuka? You have your troops deployed too quickly, my units have yet to even arrive!” he sputtered. The General stood with a cold silence, watching the man wheeze.
“And where are your troops, Huntmaster?” he asked. As if summoned, troops started to walk out of the tree line, crossing the field leading to The Capital. Soldiers in thick leathers dragged their feet as they walked in shoddy formations, some with fresh wounds that wore the stains of battle. Horses hung their heads low, with one man even collapsing from his steed.
“There, see?” The Huntmaster hissed. “We have arrived. Now clear your mutts from the base of the city and take up another position! This hill will be ours to defend.”
The General peered over the approaching forces, the soldiers battered and tired. Morale was clearly low, and supplies were lower.
“I don’t think we will be moving. This is a position of great defensive importance. It is obvious The King’s Army would hold it,” Imbuka said. The General's eyes were drawn to a second group to emerge from the woodland. Hired adventurers, clad in shining armors with tremendous weaponry walked along casually to a separate area of the battlefield. The Huntmaster’s secret weapon, it seemed.
“Its importance is exactly why we will hold it, you discarded warlord!” The Huntmaster said. He tried to push Imbuka aside, only to find a rolled letter shoved into his face.
“Orders from the Sire. The Army has been hard at work forging the weapons of the future. And now, we are The Capital’s primary defenders,” Imbuka said. A sly grin spread across his lips as he spoke, his nose lifted as he stared down at The Huntmaster. “Your units are weak, and tired from a long march. Take up a position in the fields. If the Traitor Raven’s army is small enough, I’ll even let you charge first.”
As The Huntmaster read The King’s Command, his face turned red with fury. He threw it to the ground as he turned and stormed off, once again pushing past the soldiers as he made his way towards his encroaching troops. Imbuka smiled. For this fight, he was in charge.
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