Chapter 42
A Serpent's Pass Reunion
The sound of steel-on-steel was a stark, foreign intrusion in the familiar depths of the Serpent's Pass. Renly's fist shot up, clenched tight—a universal military sign that froze his column in an instant. The casual atmosphere of travel vanished, replaced by the sharp, silent readiness of soldiers. Swords were drawn with soft, metallic whispers, and eyes, wide and alert, scanned the dense, shadowy woods.
Renly didn't need to speak. He caught Will's eye and flicked his fingers forward, then held up three. Will nodded, his youthful face hardening into a mask of focus. He pointed to three men on the best of their normal horses, and the small scout group melted into the trees, their departure barely a rustle.
The wait was agonizing, each second marked by the faint, echoing clash of steel. Renly's mind raced as he analysed the sound through his senses, a fight of more than ten men including loud weapon strike relating to knights. In these volatile times, it could be anything—a noble feud, bandits with a lucky capture, or something far more relevant to the war.
Will returned minutes later, breathing heavily, his eyes wide. "My lord," he whispered, crouching low. "It's a knight in fine plate, with ten guards,围攻 a lone knight. The lone one… I think it's a woman. The way she moves—like a shadow, all fluid dodges and quick strikes. She's good, but she's being overwhelmed."
A woman. Moves like a shadow. Renly's blood ran cold, then hot.
Anya. The name flashed in Renly's mind with the certainty of instinct. "Positions!" he barked, his voice cutting through the tension. "We move now! Little Finn, secure the luggage with two others. The rest, with me!"
He didn't wait. Digging his heels into Aethon's flanks, the powerful warhorse surged forward. The rest of his troop, a mix of men on the remaining horses and those on foot, rushed to keep up, but Aethon's bred speed quickly created a gap.
He burst into a small clearing. The scene was exactly as Will described. A handsome man, his three-leaf sigil clear on his shield, was pressing a relentless attack. His style was brutishly efficient, leveraging his bloodline's famed endurance, never tiring, each blow meant to wear down his opponent. Against him, a hooded and scarfed figure danced and weaved, her own sword a blur of parries. It was Anya's Shadow-Step, unmistakable to Renly's eyes against another Lady Elara's left hand man, Ser Loras. As the fight progressed even Anya couldn't evade forever. One of Loras's guards had flanked her, and as she dodged a heavy overhead chop from Loras, the guardsman's spear thrust towards her exposed back.
Time seemed to slow. Renly didn't think; he acted, and Aethon became an extension of his will. He charged directly into the fray, his new sword clearing a path through the startled guards. He reached her just as the spear-point was about to find its mark, his own blade deflecting it with a shower of sparks while executing a vaulting discount.
He placed himself between her and Loras, his back to her, his stance wide and protective. The rest of his troops fanned out, engaging Loras's ten guards and turning the clearing into a chaotic melee.
Loras stumbled back, his eyes wide with surprise and fury. He shock at the intrusion of another formidable knight."You! Stand aside! I serve the Duke. This one has offended the Duke! Interfere in this matter and you share her fate!" he barked, not recognizing the Lord of a minor northern fief in the formidable Senior Knight before him.
Renly said nothing, his stance making his allegiance clear. He positioned himself between Loras and the woman, his senses hyper-aware. In his peripheral vision, he saw her still for a moment, her head tilting as she studied his back, the set of his shoulders, the way he held his sword. He felt the weight of her recognition before he heard her sharp, barely audible intake of breath.
The fight resumed. Loras, true to his bloodline, was a rock. He didn't waste energy on flourishes. He defended, he counter-attacked, he conserved his strength, waiting for Renly to tire. But Renly was a Senior Knight at his peak, his body honed by years of optimized training and real combat. He was a storm to Loras's mountain. He pressed the attack, his Explosive Lunge forcing Loras into a desperate, energy-draining defense.
The balance of the fight shifted completely as Will and Lyra arrived with the rest of the troop. With sharp, disciplined commands, they engaged Loras's ten footmen, forming a skirmish line that efficiently cut them off from their master. The sound of the larger melee faded into the background for Renly and Loras. It was now a duel.
With his support gone, Loras's strategy crumbled. He could endure, but he couldn't overcome Renly's aggressive, precise skill alone. A flicker of fear finally entered his eyes. He began to give ground, looking for an escape route. Seeing an opening, Renly feinted high. Loras took the bait, his shield rising. It was the moment Renly needed. He channeled his vital force, the world narrowing to a single point.His body became a thunderbolt. There was a concussive BOOM as he covered the distance, his sword, tipped with a faint, crackling spark of the Electric Surge, piercing straight through Loras's plate armor as if it were parchment. The tip erupted from his back.
Loras staggered, his sword falling from his grasp. He looked down at the blade in his chest, then up at Renly's face as his helmet tilted back. Recognition, slow and grudging, dawned in his dying eyes. "You… the border Knight… from… Corvan's hall…" he gurgled, a trickle of blood escaping his lips. Then the light faded, and he collapsed.
Silence returned to the clearing, broken only by the heavy breathing of the victors.
Renly yanked his sword free and turned. Anya had pulled down her scarf, her face pale but composed, though her eyes were wide with a shock that went beyond the fight. She was staring at him as if seeing a ghost.
"Long time no see," Renly said, his voice softer now, laced with the fatigue of battle and the strangeness of the moment.
A slow, genuine, and utterly rare smile broke through Anya's stoic mask. "Long time indeed," she replied, her voice husky. "Six years, and you've… become a Senior Knight." The statement was filled with awe and a hundred unasked questions.
Their moment was broken as Will approached. "Aftermath report, my lord. One prisoner, as ordered. The rest are… dealt with." He gestured to the terrified young soldier being held firmly by two militiamen.
Renly and Anya turned their attention to him. The interrogation was swift and brutal in its simplicity. Anya's cold glare was enough to make the man babble.
"We… we are Duke's men! Ser Loras… he was leading us! Our orders were to track him, to help him hunt down any knights who tried to slip out of Rose City secretly! He said a big prize was trying to escape!"
Anya cursed, a low, vicious sound. "That treacherous snake."
"Care to clarify?" Renly asked, wiping his blade clean.
"It's a long story," Anya sighed, the weight of the past months settling on her shoulders. "Let's talk on the path. We need to move before more scouts find this place."
As they tended to minor wounds, packed up, and resumed their journey towards Blackstone, Anya told the tale. Her voice was steady, but Renly could hear the bitterness in it.
"Loras was appointed as a guard for Lady Elara seven years ago, after the Demon Tiger hunt. His father, a Senior Knight and a trusted aide of the Count, died saving the Count from the beast's final blow. The Count, grieving but bound by duty, immediately traveled to the royal city to gift the Demon Core to the Princess, securing her favor. In his absence, other noble houses, seeing Loras's house weakened, moved to snatch their resources and influence."
She stared ahead, her profile sharp. "Loras was young, grieving, and felt abandoned. The Duke's agents found him easily. He became their man, a deep-cover agent in the heart of the Rose faction. His cover was blown three months ago, just as the siege began."
"What happened?"
"The Second Princess came to Rose City secretly. She needed rare herbs from the Merchant Alliance to aid Lady Olivia's recovery from the old poison. Loras leaked her presence to the Duke. It was the opportunity the Duke and the First Prince needed. They moved their army to trap the Princess and the Count in the city, knowing Lady Olivia was stuck in the capital protecting the bedridden King. Loras was caught when he intercepted and killed the Count's scouts who were returning to report the Duke's troop movements. He used the ensuing chaos to escape to the Duke's side, and the siege began in earnest."
She glanced at him. "I sent a message for aid a month ago. I did not truly expect you to come. And I certainly never expected… this." She gestured at him, a Senior Knight leading a capable troop. "You have taken our revenge today, Renly. Mine, Lady Elara's, and the Count's. That debt is remembered."
Renly shook his head, watching the forest path. "Loras was not the cause. He was just a product. A common symptom of the disease that is noble politics."
Anya gave another small, tired smile. "Perhaps. But you still removed the symptom."
They rode in comfortable silence for a while, the shared history and new understanding a tangible bond between them.
The next day, as they crested a high pass in the mountains, the land sprawled out before them. And there, in the distance, built into and around a formidable peak of stark black rock, was their destination: the legendary fortress city of Blackstone, its walls seeming to grow from the mountain itself, a silent, unyielding sentinel in a kingdom at war. Their safe haven for now, and the next stage of the war, was in sight.