Chapter 46 - A City Fallen

Arthur rode beside Foster and Jeren as a small contingent of Ollerin lords and soldiers entered Rothwel's battered city gates. There were no cheers of liberation or glee to be found. Instead, the city was desolate and lifeless, as if it were some ancient ruin left to decay from an age unknown.

The only sound he could hear within the expansive cityscape was the clamor of a soldier's march as Arthur's column made its way down the devastated stone avenue.

For every building Arthur saw standing, three more lay toppled and collapsed in ruinous piles of charred rubble. And for every imperial soldier sending a gaunt-faced glance toward the newcomers, a dozen emaciated Bernish civilians lay lifelessly by the roadside.

Jeren urged his mount closer and reached over to Arthur with a handkerchief. "For the smell, lord."

"What do you mean? It doesn't smell any worse than the camp." Arthur joked but received the handkerchief and gave his thanks nonetheless.

Jeren pointed toward the columns of black smoke rising in the distance. "The siege ended days ago, according to the scouts. Those fires are for the dead, lord. As we get closer, it'll become more apparent."

Arthur nodded, brought the handkerchief to his face, and held it there as if it were a mask. "I knew it'd be bad, but this is worse than I imagined. Are there really so few people left? Or did many flee after the siege broke?"

"We can't know for certain until we hear from the imperial troops, but if I had to guess, I'd say this is it. Rothwel suffered two sieges within a single year. The imperial army wouldn't have chosen it as the location for their last stand had they any other choice.

They were likely forced to horde what little food remained to feed the soldiers, leaving the city's already broken and starving citizens to fend for themselves. It's unlikely any could muster the strength to leave even after the siege concluded." Jeren solemnly replied as he scanned the rubble.

Arthur clicked his tongue as evidence of the city's devastation grew with each passing moment. "It's a shame..."

"Sieges are always rotten for those trapped within, young master. My uncle Kori was leading a caravan for our family when he found himself trapped in the city of Barre during the Sorian rebellions six or seven years ago. The siege lasted eight months, and he said that the only people roaming around the city in the final weeks were those who had already resorted to cannibalism.

Uncle Kori said he only survived thanks to being able to hide from the cannibals in an old well hidden beneath the foundation of the Welt branch building. He was always a heavy-set man, and I remember when he returned home, I couldn't even recognize him due to how much weight he had lost. He looked like an entirely different person." Foster added.

"Cannibalism often precedes a city's fall. A few more weeks of siege and Rothwel likely would've suffered the same fate as Barre and the other Sorian cities." Jeren said.

"What happened in Barre and the other cities? I don't recall learning about such a rebellion." Arthur asked.

"It was too recent, and you were probably too young to hear about it, lord. Sor was a small principality on the western shores of Ollerin that was annexed some ninety years ago. Like most cultures indigenous to these lands, the Sorians worshipped Minaan before the empire annexed them.

Most Sorians converted, as all subjects of the empire must do, but a small sect of Minaan worshipers remained hidden, and with the help of Agelian instigators, they riled up the local populace with thoughts of reclaiming their culture and religion. The rebellion quickly spread to most cities of the principality, and the empire's response was as heavy as it was swift.

Most cities involved were starved out without the imperial troops raising a sword. Even when they attempted to surrender, the messengers were killed, and the sieges continued until only a tiny fraction of the populations remained." Jeren explained.

Foster sucked air through his teeth and shook his head. "I never understood why someone would even want to worship a god who seems so ready to sacrifice his worshippers at the slightest provocation."

"I'm not sure, but I imagine it's a lot like living within a dragon's territory. For them, Minaan's a natural disaster that they must keep satiated else they'll be destroyed by his anger.

Of course, that's only my guess as I have never actually had the opportunity to speak with a Minaan worshiper." Arthur replied before suddenly recalling the eyes of the Agelian named Ponn he had encountered beneath The Cat's Cradle.

For his own sake, he hoped Ponn and his buddies belonged to a more fanatical sect of Minaan worship. Otherwise, he was of the same mind as Foster, unable to understand why anyone would worship such a god.

After a few minutes of marching, Jeren's warning rang true as the smell of rot and burnt pork seeped through the thin handkerchief into Arthur's nostrils. It was a sickening scent, only made worse by knowing of its macabre source. Thankfully, he didn't have to endure the stench for long as the sight of Rothwel's inner castle walls filled his vision.

Once inside the castle, Arthur and the other lords were escorted to a large hall that had been stripped bare sans the long conference table and chairs occupying it.

Two men in baggy clothing stood beside the table in anticipation of their arrival.

The two men bowed before the taller of the two spoke. "I welcome you, great lords of Ollerin. I am the commander of the imperial army's seventh division, Nedry Buck, and the gentleman beside me is the commander of the imperial army's thirteenth division, Dannur Strik. Please forgive us for the sorry state we find ourselves in and introduce yourselves so we might know you better."

After a long round of pompous introductions, Arthur and the two dozen lords took their seats at the conference table and listened to the commander's report.

"You say they fled east? Are you certain?" Marquis Vander asked with his eyebrow raised in surprise.

Commander Buck nodded. "We believe their true intention is to travel south, bypassing the western marshlands, so they can rejoin the larger army that withdrew earlier in the siege. It's likely they only traveled to the eastern forest to throw us off their trail. Unfortunately, any beasts within the city have long since been slaughtered for food, so our trackers haven't been able to search very far."

"A fair assessment." Baron Iken hummed. "With twenty thousand men and a six-day head start, it's unlikely we'll see their heels even if we gave chase now."

Marquis Vander nodded. "I agree. Their numbers are too small to pose a significant threat even after our armies split ways. It's a shame, really. It appears as though the western lords and the imperial army will have the pleasure of hunting them down."

"At least the southeastern lords won't have to travel very far for their next objective. Have you seen how far Harran is? Gods, it'll take us weeks to reach it!" Count Weyln commented with faux outrage.

Marquis Vander chuckled. "I'd gladly take the northeastern lords route if you're in the mood for a trade. Bern's south lands may be distant, but it's sparsely populated compared to the east, and should the traitorous Sparnians decide to invade, we'll be the ones stuck fighting them off until the eastern imperial garrison arrives."

Arthur was taken aback by their lax attitudes and couldn't help but speak up. "Forgive me, for I am young and a novice in the ways of war, but is there no risk of ambush?"

"There's always a risk of falling into an ambush when marching on foreign land. That's why we employ scouts, dear nephew." Garren Perick mocked.

"Do scouts not die or go missing?" Arthur innocently replied.

"That's precisely their purpose." Garren rebuked with a sarcastic laugh. "It's very simple. If they do not return to inform us that the path ahead is clear, then we know there are enemies blocking our path who killed them."

"Now, now. Let's not argue. We're all friends here." Baron Iken interjected to defuse the tension between the uncle and nephew pair. "It's not that we're ignoring the possibility, lord Arthur.

It's just that the risk is minimal considering the broader scope of the war and as lord Garren said, our scouts will discover any force lying in wait to ambush us. So you needn't be overly concerned with it."

Arthur smiled and lightly bowed his head. "I am enlightened. Thank you, Baron, and thank you, uncle."

Arthur remained quiet for the remainder of the meeting. The lords mostly prattled on and postured with each other about personal glory, so he all but tuned them out until it was time to leave.

Like the other lords, Arthur was invited to stay within the castle for the night but chose not to oblige. Instead, he returned to his tent outside the city walls with Jeren and Foster.

Once he arrived, Arthur found Kyren impatiently floating about inside, but Ellena was folding some laundry nearby, so he rushed to his bedroom to speak.

"About damn time." Kyren whined.

Arthur closed the canvas flap and sat down before whispering. "Did you find anything in the eastern forest?"

"Course not!" Kyren shouted. "I searched behind every damn tree for nearly twenty miles. I told you they weren't there, kid. But did you listen to me? No!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "We had to check either way. Besides, what else do you have to do all day besides float around and complain."

"We?" Kyren's eyebrow twitched. "What's this 'we' business? I! I had to spend the day staring at trees, not you!"

Arthur chuckled and threw his fist up in solidarity. "We're a package, aren't we, old buddy, old friend? Fret not! I was there with you in heart!"

"You—You shameless brat! Child or not, when I get a new body, I'm gonna smack you good! Just you wait and see!" Kyren raged.

"Calm down. It's not smart to threaten the one whose hand is required to make good on said threat." Arthur mocked as a devious smile crept upon his lips. "Besides, if you're this mad about being asked to scout the eastern forest, then you'll be furious to learn that I'll need you to scout the southern forest tomorrow morning."

Luckily, no one other than Arthur could hear the ghostly Sparnian mage. Else the ensuing rage-filled shouts would have been enough to raise the dead just to tell the ethereal man-child to pipe down.

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