"Ah, Renata, there you are," Tiras turned towards the sound of her voice. He was always glad of the remarkable clarity he could hear her with. It appeared her subordinates were off to strip the treasury. Good. Wars were never won on heart, but full stomachs and fat wallets. He felt assured that her boys could strip the prison of money in short order. Food might take several days. "So, I've made a somewhat disquieting discovery. I found Lennox's sword, cloak, and coat here, in the commander's office. I've seen neither hide nor hair of Lennox himself, but he was definitely here. I don't suppose you've found him?"
"Before that, though, I'm curious to know your thoughts," Tiras began walking towards the front gate, beckoning her to follow him. "The gate was open to this place, and the guards were standing about outside. The garrison was relaxing in the night air. Why?"
"He's right..." Renata turned to point at Lennox, but he was no longer there. "Well, he was here a moment ago... Lennox!" She paced around a bit and called after him. "Probably gone to fetch it himself," she grumbled. She couldn't imagine him going anywhere without that cursed sword of his, whether it be because of the power the sword gave him or the endeavour of making sure it didn't fall into anyone else's hands. "He'll turn up."
Wait, why is Tiras going back to the front... gate. She remembered the fortuitous miracle that had let them enter the prison complex so easily as soon as Tiras spoke. "Well... Like you said... They were expecting someone?" She stood deep in thought as she answered with another question. "But... to receive a caravan so late at night... Something secret? Couldn't be a trap— lousy trap, if it were... Perhaps they underestimated us?" It didn't make sense to her. The Empire, from her experience, never underestimated dissent. Maybe they hadn't expected such cohesion from rebels... but then, was their group really all that cohesive? How had they won this fortress so easily? "I have no idea, Tiras." She admitted defeat. Now that she thought about it, Renata wished they could just take the loot and run, but it wasn't that simple anymore. Assuming even half the prisoners joined the band of rebels, they would need supplies. They would need to build proper camps, going forward. They would need every ounce of food in this fortress and a means to transport it. No, the combing of Traitor's End was only just starting.
Lennox found himself back in the courtyard. With all of his equipment and gear back and then some, there was only one thing left for Lennox to discover here. He was back at the captains body. The body was still there, face still covered in the whisky he poured out on his face. Lennox knelt down beside him and grabbed his arm to look at his hand. Gauntlet. He pried the gauntlet off to discover more proof. This man had an Hyperion signet ring on his index finger. Lennox slipped the ring off the finger and slipped the ring into his pocket. "Sorry cousin. If only you could have talked this out with me, perhaps this wouldn't be your fate. I'll make sure this makes its way back home, so you won't be forgotten to history as a bastard of our line."
Lennox drew Dyrnwyn and ignited the blade, causing a bit of a commotion amongst Tiras' men. He then thrust the blade into the mans chest, spreading the fire from the sword to the corpse. When the blade's fire went out, he secured it onto his back once more and stepped away and closed his eyes, muttering a small prayer to St. Elimine. He wasn't particularly religious, but this man was kin. He deserved that much, even if he was a bastard or a follower of the Emperor's cult. "Hopefully Ludwig will accept you in the beyond. He was always kind to me, so he should be kind to you, too."
Lennox looked around and saw one of Tiras' men. "You! Lead me to Tiras. We need to discuss something."
"I don't know either, Renata," Tiras said, setting his chin in his palm. "Leaving the gate open, lounging about outside? Given the seriousness of the chief warden, I'm not certain why or even if he would let the garrison act like idiots, but then, I only knew in for a maximum of five minutes." He shrugged. His shoulders made soft clicks as they settled back in place. "I can guess a couple of reasons, though. And I like none of them." He turned to the groups of his fighters around them. Little torches and lamps had been lit, and some illumination was restored to the gloom. He saw some of the fighters with bows and arrows. "You there! Archers!" The group jolted up, turning to the sound of his voice. "Get up on the walls! Keep a lookout on the road! Report any traffic you see!"
As the archers saluted and hurried to obey, he turned to another group of his men with swords, maces, and some armor on them. "And you!" Their turn to jolt to alertness and face him. "All of you, shut the gates until we're ready to leave, then join the archers on the walls! If you find any cauldrons of boiling water or sand, keep them prepared for use! Move!"
He turned towards the inward section of the prison and saw a recently freed prisoner, a woman, with the build of a commoner or a scholar, and clearly wearing only a just-long-enough-to-be-decent shirt. "You!" She startled with fright. Tiras somewhat understood, he probably sounded like one of her jailers. "Bring everyone who was a prisoner here." He gave her a once-over. "As soon as you find something for your legs and feet." She nodded and ran off.
Just then, a familiar figure emerged from the gloom, led by a rather intimidated one of his men. "Lennox. It's good to see you're still among the living."
"I'll see to it we're armed," Renata said before springing into action. If they'd been caught in a trap, their window of time to do something about it would be small indeed. She made her way to a temporary camp site that had been set up in the prison yard by the rogues who'd been sent to comb the complex of its supplies. "What's our count so far?" she asked her man Isidro, who was hobbling up to the camp hauling a large chest with a few others.
"Found a larder," he replied. "Seems low. Grain for... with our numbers now... a day, maybe two with rationing... Few chickens— keep the pace up, you dolts!" The chest hit the ground with a thud. "'Whole damn chest', aye?"
"Arms and armour?" Renata asked pointedly.
"Aside from what the guards were wearing... Hells, you can't be serious, Miss Renata!" Knowing what she was about to ask, Isidro began following after her as she went back to where Tiras and Lennox were. "We must leave as soon as we can! We're a raiding force, not a garrison!"
"Leave, and then fall into a trap? No," Renata replied. "Get together a crack troop— let's go for fourty, but as many as we can possibly outfit. I want all looting stopped until we're ready for battle." It was unrealistic to expect even that number ready in quick order, but Renata held onto hope that there were enough former prisoners raring for revenge to bolster their ranks sooner rather than later. Hell, it's even more unrealistic to ask thieves to stop looting.
Isidro stammered for a second, giving Renata and then Tiras a quizzical glare, before nodding and steeling himself. He ran back to the camp shouting for the brigands and thieves to form up. "It'll be shock tactics, right?" Renata asked Tiras, seeking his approval. "I don't think we've enough archers to deny them the walls. If they're coming... If they set up a siege, we're already finished. No one's coming to our aid. We'll have to catch them while they're setting up." She turned to Lennox. "Do..." No, she would not ask her friend to sortie from a fortress as his first act of freedom from the prison within it. "Do you have any ideas, Lennox?"
"Some would disagree, I'm sure," Lennox said coming to a stop in front of Tiras as Renata was directing traffic. He reached down the coat and felt a lump. He reached a bit for a pocket, not seeing one on the outside. He opened it a bit and found an inner pocket. "Oh..."He reached in and took out some dried meats. He sniffed it a bit, and it smelt fine, so he took a bite out of it. "Forgive me. They haven't fed me since I got here. Anyway, I discovered something," he said, taking out the journal. He passed it to Tiras. "I found this coat and journal where the rest of my stuff was stowed. Apparently you killed a cousin on mine. A bastard cousin, but a cousin none the less. This coat is his. He almost got the color right, but it's just a little off. He had this signet ring and that was the geniune article, so I don't think he was misled. Not holding it against you, I would've killed him too given the situation."
He sighed a bit, before continuing. "Oh yes, the journal. I didn't read the last few pages, but he may have logged some vital intel in there. Give it a read and give it back. He may have deprived me of food for three days, but Hyperion blood ran in his veins." He turned to Renata trying to come up with a defensive plan. She turned asking for ideas. "I got one. Dress your archers in the enemies armor. Put them on the walls and keep the gate open. Don't let them know the fort is captured. Stage fighters outside and inside the fort. Start letting them in and if you can drop oil or scalding water on the people under the gate, do it when the are halfway through. That would cause chaos in the ranks and signal the attack. The archers can start firing on the soldiers and the infantry can ambush from both sides. They won't have time to form ranks. If you can find some large rocks, find some willing prisoners and hide them above so they can toss the rocks on the enemies heads."
"But that's just my idea."
"Then I hope you won't be too offended if I disregard it entirely," Tiras replied almost cheerfully.
"Uh, sir?" Tiras turned. It was the woman prisoner from before. She had on pants this time, and a cloak, to go with her shirt, side-buckled shoes, and it looked like a green-colored book. Huh. She was an actual mage, not just a dissenter. Excellent. She'd brought all the prisoners that hadn't cut and run out the postern, which was most of them. They'd helped his men strip the guards' bodies and line them up, then equipped themselves in the gear.
"Line up! Rows and columns!" Tiras shouted, turning his body fully to face them. He was commander now. The ex-prisoners tried, and partially succeeded, forming a patchwork lattice of people that had no true shape. "Very good. This was your first command. I am Sir Tiras Howarth. I was knighted with the dying breath of Sir Adrian Verde, and I am a veteran of the war a few years back. Sir Adrian and I disagreed with the razing of the Tower of the Saint, and deserted. You, by virtue of staying here with us instead of using the opportunity to flee, are now under my command." He indicated Renata.
"This is Lady Renata. She has the honor of being my second-in-command. If she gives you a command, follow it. She is formerly of the Preservation Church, so she knows firsthand how nasty they can be, and has joined me in rebelling against them, and against the unjust monster that occupies the throne of our country!" At this, there were a few cheers. "Now, currently I have a suspicion that there is a force on its way here. Do any of you have any idea what is coming here?" A few moments of silence followed.
"I might know," a burly man said, breaking the silence. "I've been here a week and a half, and I overheard the guards complaining one night. Something about transporting prisoners. I don't remember much else of the conversation."
Tiras nodded. I suspected as much. 'Traitor's End' doesn't seem to be where the prisoners stay. But where are they being transported to? And why? "Thank you for that information." He thought about what to do. I'll be damned. I might have to take back what I said to Lennox. The humor of the Fates aside, Tiras needed to figure out what to do with these new recruits.
"Alright. Half of you, when that force comes in, are going to block off the gateway to the inner bailey," he said, running his arm across the middle of the assembled group. He picked which half, and they scurried quickly to do as he said. "You are to hold that line. Let no one pass without my say-so." He turned to the other half. "The rest of you, divide into two groups and occupy the shadows in the two corners beside the gate. When I give the order, you are to attack. The archers will fire first, just mop up the rest. Understood?" The group indicated 'yes' in various ways. "Hop to it, then. Go!"
As the did, he turned to Renata and Lennox. "Come, we'll greet this transport force from the tower, so I can also inform the archers. Oh, and Lennox, apologies. Your plan wasn't as unmeritable as I thought at the first."
They went into the gatehouse and climbed up to the walls.
From atop the wall, Renata peered out into the darkness from between Tiras and Lennox, tho she had no hope of actually seeing anything. It was some consolation that anyone approaching the fortress wouldn't be able to see her either, exposed as she felt. She suddenly wished for some proper armour and felt a pang of wistfulness for her inquisitor garb, which had all long been broken or pawned off by now. Not that it had been nearly as protective as the armour of a soldier who expected to actually see full-scale battle. Perhaps she should've taken one of the watchmen's bows... No, it was more useful in the hands of the men lying in wait to ambush the enemy. She'd barely ever used one but for hunting in the first place. A breeze picked up.
"So, Lennox... Must've been some bar fight, aye?" Renata could not keep quiet, her speech shedding all propriety. Every minute spent staring into the darkness felt like an hour. This was just about as stressful as the prison raid itself had been. "The girl you were traveling with, last we saw you— she make off alright?" At least their enemy was human this time. But does that make it better or worse?
Lennox was a bit amused by the initial rebuking of his plan. He doesn't realize that the Hyperions are a line of martial nobles. They are more than just warriors, but at least two members of the family were amongst part of the famed Three Generals of Etruria, with one being the Great General and one being the Knight General, with another only passed over due politics. Sure, no Hyperions had reached those lofty heights since King Zephiel's war, but that didn't mean that they were any less educated. He just stood back and let Tiras conscript his fellow prisoners into his ragtag band. He's tossing around Sir Verde's name around a lot. Hmmm...He risks wearing the name thin. He's holding onto it like a crutch. He needs to hold himself up by his own merit, not secondhand merit. Unless..., Lennox shook the thought from his head. He couldn't be lying about it.
Lennox turned to to Renata as Tiras introduced her. He looked back at the group and noticed a couple people looking at him. They must've wanted to know who he was that he didn't fall in line with the others, especially since he was treated worse than the others were these last couple days. His eyes narrowed and he quickly gestured to look at Tiras, as he was still addressing the group. When Tiras didn't introduce Lennox, it made perfect sense to him. He was a mercenary, an Etrurian noble. Tiras made no offer of being part of his group, so there was no reason to introduce him as part of the group.
The noble stifled a chuckle as he heard the orders. It wasn't quite like his plan, but it did adopt a few elements that Lennox thought were key to implement. When Tiras apologized, he couldn't hold it. "That's fine. Mine was a bit more reckless, you just tempered it a bit."
---------------------------------------------------
Waiting for the enemy was a slow thing. Especially not knowing for sure if there is an enemy. It was a bit easier for him as he ate and drank on the wall. He needed to get as much of his energy back as he could before the fight. Renata broke the silence. "Yeah. Got a table broken over my back. So then I gave the guy a release bernese suplex over the counter. I think ten or so bottles fell on the guy. I also don't think he made it. Then someone struck me in the face with buckler. I was out briefly, and when I came too, Lycian soldiers had spears at my neck as another soldier was burning alive trying to pick up Dyrnwyn. My cousin did some stuff around Pharae and Santaruz, so I think they saw someone with a similar hair color and outfit color and mistaken me for him. They forced me to help them strap Dyrnwyn to my back for transport and dragged me here."
"As for Raye, she....disappeared. I think she made a turn when I went straight. We weren't in a talking mood, and I was still kinda thinking about Valor, so I wasn't focusing on the fact that I didn't hear her footsteps," Lennox shrugged. "I tried going separate ways when I first found her and then she followed me to that boat. I decide she's sticking with me and she wanders off. Go figure."
"Mm. Go figure," Tiras said of Raye's disappearance. "Best we can do is pray she's alright." He looked at Lennox. "As for us, we've made a habit of hitting prison convoys when and where we could, stirring up any un-cowed youths in the villages we've run across, until we got too large to move without suspicion. I've been making progress deciphering Persephone, and use her in my battles now, as you might've noticed. At any rate, we reached a tipping point, and decided to take the plunge. And so we took Traitor's End. Except the End is not the End, apparently, and they want to keep what is the end a secret." He peered from a crenelation, first left, then right. "But until they come to us, we won't know where they go."
'I will make you aware, Tiras Hades, when your enemies arrive,' he heard Persephone tell him. He nodded. He didn't get down time lately; being allowed a free minute was something of a luxury. "Renata has improved her sword form, as well as her mastery of the faithful arcana. It was quite illuminating to watch." He smiled, more of a rarity these days, as he looked to the woman. "And her kindness has saved and recruited more to our cause than my victories. A rare comrade, and a rarer lady."
"A table... Bernese suplex... burning alive... What a scamp, that Lennox," Renata murmured in following along with Lennox's story. "Godspeed, Raye. Get yourself out of this mess."
"Easy enough to play the part of the poor little priestess." She sheepishly downplayed Tiras's praise. "The men took well to my father's sword drills— gods, I hated those. Wake up at the crack of dawn to wave around a stick in the middle of the vegetable fields, and for what? The bastard..." She trailed off, suddenly deep in thought.
Vegetable fields.
"You— You know, Tiras, we'll be needing a stronghold after this, something with walls and food for all the new recruits. I've a place in mind. Village near Laus. Terrain's defensible, more or less." It remained to be seen if it would be doable to get all their people and supplies through the Lycian countryside while avoiding large settlements, but if they could, Renata was moderately sure that her home would welcome them. Worst case, surrender to them.
That was assuming they got out of all this alive in the first place.
"Not trying to offend, but perhaps someone should be training them to uses lances or archery. Unless your stealing from smithys or armories, bows or pitchforks would be easier to acquire for common folk," Lennox advised, "Even someone to teach them proper ways with an axe would be good, too. Those are tools that would be easiest to acquire and they might have some passing knowledge on how to use from everyday life. I'm not saying to stop training them with the sword. But find a way to diversify their knowledge base," Lennox advised.
Lennox thought on Laus, on Renata's idea. "The one by the mountains? Northeast of Laus? You could establish two chokepoints pretty easily if I remember the old maps." He paused for a second and reached into his pockets and pulled out a map of Lycia. "Wolfram, the guy we saw on Valor, gave us 'new' maps of Lycia that he painstakingly copied from old maps from the a hundred years ago," He looked over the map and pointed at the village he thought of and showed it to Renata and Tiras. "Is that the one you're talking about? It work, no doubt."
"Up to this point, we've been training those we could with what we know. I am a knight. Almost from birth my life has been the art of war," Tiras replied. The Hyperion man might've meant no offense, but to assume a veteran like him was not able to drill his own troops? Unintentional, perhaps, but still insulting, lord or no. "I've helped Sir Adrian lead men in battle in the Schism. Training and drilling them is part of that, and spears and axes are easy to come by. You're welcome to join us, if you'd prefer to oversee their training yourself, Lennox. But please assume Renata and I know our business."
He looked at Renata, just wanting to see her face, before looking back into the fortress. The tension was high now, but with this force so strong now, with all the new additions, it was more of a reassurance that they could take what was coming.
They come... Lamps like red stars, distant on the road..., Persephone spoke into his mind. Tiras bolted to the crenelations at the front, peering left and right on the road; They were there. Rounding a long bend to come into view, there were five wagons, it looked like. Four lamps lit each wagon, one on each corner. They were large, flat wagons, with iron cages that could hold plenty of prisoners. The guards that marched alongside the wagons looked like army regulars, but were thankfully much fewer in number than he had feared. Still, no reason for complacency.
"Places. They'll be here before long," Tiras told the soldiers. Four guards per wagon, so twenty all told. In the thick of it they could be overwhelmed by sheer numbers, but if they held a defensible position, perhaps they could repulse most of them. They had to be skilled at least at subjugation, to be trusted with this mission. Elimine, allow us this deception.
A drawn-out murmur of "cor" escaped Renata as Lennox showed her the map. "They usually don't bother to put it on maps..." She only wished she could read the name of her home next to the dot on the map in the darkness. It was just as well. The last thing she needed in this tense moment was to be brought to tears by even more thoughts of the place.
"We're grateful for any advice you can give, Lennox." Renata added a remark to temper Tiras's stiff comments. She hoped he intended to stick by them as an ally, and if the price for that was for her to play mediator between the boys, so be it.
Renata stiffened at Tiras's sudden move to attention. He was already seeing the lamps a moment before they winked into view for her.
"Either they've underestimated us or there are more that we can't see." She tried to analyze the situation. "I'll get down to the wall, see if I can support with magic. With any luck, it'll help ours see and blind theirs." She started on her way back from the tower to the top of the wall. It was a more vulnerable spot, but she could tell the tower would deny her magic some range. She would be wanting range out in addition to down here.
Lennox just stared at the other side of the map. Why does it always seem like Tiras wants to start a fight with him? Is in insecure? "Tiras, all I'm saying is that you have regular run-of-the-mill civilians here. They aren't career soldiers. Unless Lycia filled most of its ranks with conscripts during the 'Schism', you weren't training and drilling farmers." Lennox put the map back and shook his head. "Whatever. Its your rag-tag bunch of misfits, not mine."
Renata decided to retreat to a more advantageous position for her, leaving him alone with Tiras."Not that I care, but between you and me. Did Sir Verde fall before you were knighted? Something about how much you cling to his name gives me that impression." He got up before Tiras answered him. "...forget it. If I upset you, kill more of those imperial bastards than I do and prove to me your more than the shadow of Sir Adrian Verde."
With that said, Lennox ran after Renata, eager to fight.
Tiras sighed angrily. What is it about that man that pisses me off so much? 'Train them with lances and archery,' he says. They were brought up playing chumps and using a pitchfork for hay and an axe to split logs. Typical high-rank blueblood, never even glances at the peasantry or the low gentry. I don't suppose I was much better before I was squired to Sir Adrian. And how the blue blazing BLOODY hell did he guess that? "Don't need to. Already killed more of those bastards than you, Hyperion. Were you listening to how I gathered my forces or were you stuffing your earwax deeper in?" he muttered to the empty air after Lennox left. My countrymen's blood stains my hands. But I've known that since I ran off with Sir Verde. Rebels can't afford to have countrymen until they aren't rebels any longer, or until they're dead.
With that sobering thought, he waited as the lamps got closer. More of the wagons than five appeared around the corner. This transport was meant to take all of the prisoners, apparently. He couldn't see the faces of the wardens, but with the deep shadows and the harsh orange lights of the fires they'd re-lit, that was understandable. It was difficult to make out who was in charge of the column, since everyone was on foot. Usually the captain was on a horse.
Ten large wagons lined the road in front of the prison. At last, from the rear, a woman rode slowly, her horse taking a very deliberate pace. She looked back and forth at her own soldiers, with an expression Tiras was too far away to read, and then looked up at the walls. She had a beautiful face, but it was twisted by hate and bitterness. Her eyes were thin, her straight, dark hair fell down her back in a river of darkness, and her mouth twisted in a sneering smirk of amusement, likely at the fate of the prisoners the woman thought he was going to be handing them. Her armor was dark as well, as black as the coat of her horse, with a caparison to match. The only thing she was missing was a burning spear and sword and she would be the picture of a demonic knight out of hell.
"Hail, Traitor's End! Apologies for the delay, one of our wagons got a wheel stuck in a hole on the road. What of you? No troubles this night?"
Tiras wondered at the tone, but answered back in a steady enough voice, "There were some troubles, unfortunately. A small band of rebel scum attempted to lay siege earlier tonight; hence we shut the gate up, to kill them. We only barely finished cleaning up after their mess before you arrived. And this is to say nothing of our prisoners this day: they are a rowdy bunch, difficult to handle at the best of times. Will you perhaps help us to get them into their cages?"
"Of course, of course," she said, gesturing.
"Open the gates!" Tiras commanded. He felt his gut tighten. This is it.